A Cappella
by Kit Spooner
Summary: Tragedy tears Tomoyo from her home and brings her closer to the one person who can understand her sadness: Hiiragizawa Eriol. [complete]
1. Solo

**~~ A Cappella ~~**

**A Card Captor Sakura Fanfiction by Kit**   
  


All characters portrayed here are the property of CLAMP, Kodansha, a bunch of other Japanese media companies, and a certain Canadian dubbing company that will heretofore go unnamed. I don't claim to own these characters, but the situations I put them in belong to me. I would rather this wasn't posted anywhere without my permission (right now it can be found on the CCSFWML groups site, the CCSFWML website, and fanfiction.net), so email me with questions. Don't steal. I bite. 

The snippet of poetry that Tomoyo sings in this chapter is by William Butler Yeats.   
  
  
  
  
  


Part One -- Solo   
  


**solo **-- _n._ -- _**1:** a musical composition for a single voice or instrument with or without accompaniment **2:** a performance in which the performer has no partner or associate_   
  


On the morning of the funeral, the sun seemed unnaturally bright, almost painfully so. Tomoyo was finally forced to close her eyes against the brightness. Even then, the light stabbed mercilessly through her reddened eyelids. For a moment, Tomoyo was able to lose herself in the pain, until the aching of her heart was shadowed by the uncaring shafts of sunlight. 

A small, warm, glove-clad hand on her arm brought her back to self-awareness. "Are you sure you're alright, Tomoyo-chan?" Sakura's voice was softer than usual. She sounded like someone else entirely. 

"Of course I'm alright, Sakura-chan," Tomoyo replied quietly. _No, I'm not alright,_ a strident voice in her mind declared. _I haven't been alright in days. I won't be alright ever again._ "I'm just a little tired," she continued, ignoring the part of her that recognized her lie for what it was. Tomoyo didn't have the luxury of letting go of her emotions at the moment. She had to be strong for another few days. 

The glossy black limousine pulled up the drive of the funeral home. The car stopped and soon the chauffeur came to help Tomoyo and Sakura out of the car. Tomoyo's hand tightly clenched in hers, Sakura gently led the dark-haired girl in through the massive, oak-paneled doors of the building. Sakura's face was red from weeping, but Tomoyo was pale as the moon, her eyes huge and dark. Sakura worried about her friend, but knew that Tomoyo would talk to her when she was ready. 

As Sakura and Tomoyo walked down the hallway, their dress shoes clicking quietly against the marble floor, silence reigned. They didn't even speak when they passed the tasteful sign that pointed them in the direction of the memorial service for Daidouji Sonomi. 

The girls were led to the small chapel at the rear of the funeral home, where the funeral service would take place. It was good that it was a small chapel, since there weren't very many people attending the service. There were a few of Tomoyo's mother's close business associates, and a scattering of Tomoyo's classmates. Tomoyo's great-grandfather was seated in the front row, looking uncharacteristically old and frail. And of course, there were Kinomotos and their extended family, Fujitaka, Sakura and Touya, Li Syaoran and Tsukishiro Yukito. 

Sakura joined her family, and Tomoyo went to sit next to her great-grandfather, who gently clasped his huge, paper-dry hand around hers. He didn't say anything; he didn't have to. 

There really wasn't anything _left _to say. Tomoyo had already heard all of the condolences. She'd already read all of the greeting cards, had already smelled all the funereal bouquets. She'd given more than her fair share of brittle smiles in return for the platitudes. Tomoyo was tired of her mother's death. Or maybe she was simply tired. 

Death had come for Daidouji Sonomi with a speed no one had expected. The doctors had told Tomoyo afterwards that a long-hidden congenital heart defect had caused her mother's massive coronary. Despite the gentle pressure from doctors and friends, Tomoyo had refused to be tested for the defect. Tomoyo hadn't seen any reason for the test. Mere knowledge of the heart defect wouldn't have saved her mother's life. 

The funeral service was mercifully short. A local Shinto priest said a few prayer beforehand, then made way for Kinomoto Fujitaka, who had asked earlier to be allowed to say a few words about his almost-sister-in-law. It took all of Tomoyo's self-control to keep from crying. She had never fully understood the bond that had joined Fujitaka, Nadesico, and Sonomi together, and still didn't. Despite Sonomi's apparent jealousy of Fujitaka, Nadesico's husband had loved Sonomi nearly as much as his wife had. Tomoyo suspected that her mother's bitter words about Fujitaka hid her carefully concealed love for the man who had stolen her beloved cousin. 

Fujitaka's brief eulogy was followed by a short speech from one of Sonomi's vice presidents, and then it was Tomoyo's turn. Her decision to speak at the funeral was a difficult one, but despite Sakura's protestations that Tomoyo didn't have to do it if it would be too painful, Tomoyo knew she owed it to her mother. To her mother's memory. 

When Tomoyo stood up and faced the assembled mourners, she realized, to her horror, that she'd forgotten the carefully scripted speech she was going to make. The words fled her mind, and Tomoyo was instantly frozen. Her hands trembled and her eyes burned with the weight of unshed tears. 

_I can't do this,_ she thought wearily. _I thought I could, but I can't. I'm sorry, Mother . . ._

Then a cloud obscured the brilliance of the sun, and the jewel-toned patches of light, filtered through the chapel's stained-glass windows, were shrouded in gray shadow. Tomoyo's chin rose and she opened her mouth to speak. 

At the last moment, she realized that she still couldn't speak. But she could sing. So she sang.   
  


"You shall go with me, newly-married bride,   
And gaze upon a merrier multitude.   
White-armed Nuala, Aengus of the Birds,   
Feachra of the hurtling form, and him   
Who is the ruler of the Western Host,   
Finvara, and their Land of Heart's Desire.   
Where beauty has no ebb, decay no flood,   
But joy is wisdom, time an endless song."   
  


The tune was spontaneous and haunting, the words the timeless echo of a long-dead Irishman. But Tomoyo's voice soared, unaccompanied, to echo among the stone carvings that lined the stained-glass windows. Her pale face caught the burning light. 

Sonomi's grandfather cried for the first time since Nadesico died. Sonomi's daughter had no tears to shed.   
  


  
"But I don't understand why you can't stay here in Tomoeda!" Sakura exclaimed for the fifth time. "We have a spare room in our house if you don't want to live in that big house by yourself. And besides, you're not a child anymore, Tomoyo-chan. You're fifteen!" 

"I know," Tomoyo agreed. "I'm fifteen, but I _am_ still a child, and I don't want to live by myself, either in my house or yours. My mother wanted me to go to England, so I'm going to England." 

"But how do you know what it'll be like there?" Sakura was almost in tears. It was bad enough that Sonomi died. Now Tomoyo had declared her intention to move half-way around the world. "I mean, you haven't seen you father since you were a baby, right? Would your mother really have wanted you to go live with a virtual stranger?" 

Tomoyo sighed. As much as she loved Sakura, she was tired of explaining the situation. "As I told you before, it's only been ten years since Father visited, and we write letters to each other, so we're not strangers." Tomoyo reached out and clasped Sakura's hand. "Sakura, I'm going to miss you terribly, but I need to go. I need to get away from Mother's ghost for a while." 

"Oh, Tomoyo-chan," Sakura whispered before wrapping her arms around Tomoyo and pulling her into a warm embrace. "I'm going to miss you so much." 

"I'll miss you too, Sakura-chan," Tomoyo said, her breath warm against Sakura's ear. 

Sakura finally sniffled back her tears and gave Tomoyo a brave smile. "Well, at least you'll get to visit neat places. And if you're going to be in England, you'll visit Eriol-kun and Mizuki-sensei, right?" 

"Sakura-chan, England's a big place. I don't know if I'm going to be anywhere near them." 

Sakura laughed to cover her embarrassment. "Oh, I suppose you're right." She patted Tomoyo's hand. "But I'll give you their addresses anyway." 

Tomoyo was almost able to return Sakura's smile. "And I'll visit them if I can," she promised. 

Nearly a week had passed since the funeral, but Tomoyo still hurt. She knew the pain would ease in time, but it was so very hard to keep up her brave front. She missed her mother desperately. Sonomi's death had made her realize just how alone she was in the world. Now, all she really had left was Sakura's friendship, and while the friendship was wonderful, Tomoyo knew that deep in her heart she wanted more than that. 

Sakura, on the other hand, had already found her soulmate in Li Syaoran, who returned her affections in equal measure. They were so attached to each other that is was almost nauseating to watch. Even worse was the way Sakura occasionally tried to set up Tomoyo with various male friends. It was almost as though Sakura felt guilty about her own happiness, and pitied Tomoyo. Tomoyo sometimes suspected that Sakura knew just how Tomoyo felt about her. Tomoyo knew that it would be easier to leave Japan than to face Sakura's pity. 

Sonomi's last will and testament indicated that she wished for her daughter to live with her estranged husband in England, where Daidouji Hiroshi made his living as a painter, unless Tomoyo truly wished to remain in Japan. For Tomoyo, Tomoeda held too many painful memories, too many difficult associations. She needed to start over. England would be just the place to begin. 

Tomoyo's farewells were brief, a fact that reminded her of just how few friends she truly had. Oh, they were sad to see her go, but they would go on with their lives. When the day of her flight to England finally arrived, it was Kinomoto Fujitaka, Sakura and Syaoran who drove her to the airport to see her off. In the terminal, Sakura's father wrapped a surprised Tomoyo in an exuberant bear hug, then released her. "Good luck with your father," he told her with a sunny smile. 

Syaoran shook her hand, and stiffened when Tomoyo pulled him into a tight hug. Eventually he relaxed and kissed her cheek. "We'll all miss you, Daidouji," he said quietly against her hair. 

Tomoyo pulled back to smile at him. "I know, Li-kun," she said. Then she leaned forward to whisper in his ear, "Take care of Sakura-chan for me." 

"Of course," Syaoran agreed with a lop-sided grin before kissing her cheek again. 

Then Tomoyo turned to face Sakura, who was already in tears. "Please don't cry, Sakura-chan," Tomoyo begged, reaching out to wipe the tears from her friend's cheeks. "I'll be back someday, and I'll write as often as you like." 

"It won't be the same, Tomoyo-chan," Sakura said as she hugged Tomoyo. "We've been together since we were children. You're like my sister." 

"I'll always be there for you," Tomoyo said solemnly. "I love you." And for the first time in her life, Daidouji Tomoyo allowed the full heat of her emotions to rise to the surface, her feelings clearly apparent in her expression. 

Sakura's eyes widened, then glistened with new tears. She hugged Tomoyo again and buried her face in Tomoyo's thick hair. "I'm sorry I couldn't be the person you need," she whispered. 

"I know," Tomoyo told her. "I understand. Don't be sorry. Just be happy." 

All too soon, the boarding call came and Tomoyo waved farewell to her loved ones before disappearing down the entryway. She didn't look back.   
  


  
England wasn't quite what Tomoyo had expected. Neither was her father. 

Physically, Daidouji Hiroshi had changed little in the ten years since he'd last visited his daughter in Japan. He was still fairly short and slim, with a shock of dark hair, golden skin, and brilliant blue eyes. He looked at least fifteen years younger than he really was. 

At Heathrow Airport, he recognized Tomoyo immediately, and scooped her up into his arms, luggage and all. "Oh, Tomoyo-chan! I'm so glad to see you . . ." 

Tomoyo stiffened at the initial contact, but forced herself to relax and return her father's hug. "It's nice to see you too, Father," she replied. 

Hiroshi set his daughter down and looked her up and down. "You've certainly grown up to be a lovely young lady, Tomoyo," he told her before reaching down and collecting her carry-on bags. "Come on, Tasha's waiting for us outside in the car." 

A few minutes later, after the Daidoujis had collected the rest of Tomoyo's baggage from the carousel, Hiroshi introduced his daughter to his girlfriend. "Tomoyo, I'd like you to meet Tasha MacLeod, my roommate and lady love. Tasha, darling, this is Sonomi's and my daughter, Daidouji Tomoyo." 

Tasha and Tomoyo exchanged greetings and wary bows while Hiroshi looked on hopefully. Tasha MacLeod was a tiny woman, barely taller than Tomoyo herself, with a delicate, bird-like bone structure and a cloud of bright red-gold hair. She moved with the grace of a dancer, and her smile was a thing of wonder, transforming her from a pale, freckled young woman to an ethereal, eldritch beauty. Tasha's Japanese was perfect, if strangely accented. Tomoyo found herself drawn to her, despite her expectations. She hadn't expected her father to have a girlfriend. 

On the long drive back from Heathrow, Tomoyo was slowly introduced to her new family. Ten years ago, Daidouji Hiroshi had been a struggling artist, teaching children's art classes to keep food on the table when his work didn't sell. Now, Hiroshi was finally happy and financially secure. His work was selling, and he could afford a nice flat outside the city instead of a cramped closet in the seedier parts of town. Tasha was a stage actress who had started as one of Hiroshi's models and had ended up living with him. 

When told of Tomoyo's musical talents, Tasha beamed over at Tomoyo. "So you sing? How wonderful! We'll have three artists living in one flat. I sing a little, as a chorus girl in musicals sometimes, but I suspect I'm not nearly as good as you are." 

Tomoyo shivered. "I . . . don't sing anymore." It was difficult to keep the catch out of her voice. The last time she'd sung was at her mother's . . . 

"Oh, I understand, Tomoyo-san," Tasha said quickly, realizing that she'd hit upon a touchy subject. 

Fortunately, the uncomfortable silence didn't last long, since Hiroshi soon pulled his tiny hatchback into the parking garage of his apartment building. The three of them spent several minutes hauling Tomoyo's many suitcases and trunks up the front steps of the building to the lobby, where they set in the wait for the lift. 

"Thank goodness it's working today," Tasha commented with a roll of her expressive gray eyes. "The lift's more temperamental than your usual prima donna." 

"And we definitely don't want to carry all this stuff up four flights of stairs," Hiroshi added with a grin. 

Tomoyo winced. "Maybe I brought too much stuff," she admitted. 

Tasha laughed gaily. "Don't worry about it, Tomoyo. We're just teasing. It's not your fault that you're being forced to transplant your life to another country." 

When the lift arrived with a cheery chime, they managed to cram all of the luggage inside, along with the passengers, and the aging lift chugged it's way up to the fourth floor. 

"We're down at the end of the hall," Hiroshi told Tomoyo from behind the stack of boxes he was carrying. 

The flat was larger than Tomoyo had expected. Since it was situated on the top floor of the building, the apartment was blessed with cathedral ceilings, that made the rooms seem huge and airy. The decor was sparse and tasteful, appealing to Tomoyo's rather traditional tastes. Tomoyo's belongings were lugged into a small bedroom and she was left to unpack while Hiroshi and Tasha made lunch. 

Tomoyo obediently put away most of her packed clothing before losing interest and momentum and finally just lying down on the bed. The flight to England hadn't been as horrible as she'd half-expected, but it would take her some time to adjust to living here. She already missed Japan, despite Tasha's surprising grasp of the language and her father's Japanese-style apartment. It just wasn't _home_. 

Tomoyo tried not to think about her mother, but everything seemed to lead back to Sonomi. Even her father, who hadn't actually lived with his wife in more than twelve years, seemed to be keeping a careful lock on his grief. Tomoyo had been hoping that strange surroundings would distract her from her mourning, but she merely felt isolated in her sadness. She was more alone than ever before, since now even Sakura was out of reach, Sakura who knew Tomoyo loved her, and knew it wasn't the same sisterly love that Sakura felt, Sakura who was sorry for not being what Tomoyo needed. 

Tomoyo missed Sakura. 

And she missed her mother. 

  
With the death of her mother, Daidouji Tomoyo had become an heiress of the first magnitude. She had inherited nearly all of her mother's assets, and could probably have bought up the entire town of Tomoeda, had she so desired. Sonomi had left a generous sum of money for her estranged husband, but Hiroshi refused to take any of the additional money his daughter offered him. 

"I don't need the money," he told Tomoyo over dinner one evening. "Tasha and I are perfectly content with our situation right now. And besides, I'm sure you'll find something much more worthwhile to spend your money on, later in life, Tomoyo-chan." His voice was gentle as he affectionately ruffled Tomoyo's hair. 

Though her father had only been a vague memory for Tomoyo, she found herself rapidly warming up to the man, despite how radically different he was from her mother. She often wondered what had originally drawn Hiroshi and Sonomi together, back when they had married. 

Tasha MacLeod roused mixed emotions in Tomoyo. Despite her instinctive admiration of the Scottish woman, something deep inside her held back from giving Tasha her affection. Perhaps it was childish, but this was the woman that Hiroshi had replaced Sonomi with, and that was a little painful for Tomoyo, despite the fact that it had been _Sonomi_ who had ended her relationship with her husband, so many years ago. But Tomoyo did get along wonderfully with Tasha, and she realized, a month after arriving in England, that she was settling into her new home. 

Settling into school was a different matter. Knowing nothing of the English school system, Tomoyo had welcomed Hiroshi and Tasha's advice on the matter. They'd finally settled upon a highly prestigious, ridiculously expensive, private 'college,' with the rather incongruous name of Clef Academy. Tomoyo had innocently asked where the name came from, since she thought it reminded her of someone in a comic she'd once read, and was told that 'clef' meant 'key' in French. Tomoyo decided not to wonder about it anymore. 

The school was co-ed, but the girls and boys remained separate for most of their classes, rejoining each other for study halls, arts, and humanities classes. Aside from the language difference, Tomoyo soon realized that English schools were just as demanding as Japanese schools, though not quite in the same way. In a school full of bright, talented, extremely wealthy young people, Tomoyo didn't stand out quite the way she had back in Tomoeda, which was both frustrating and a bit of a relief. Though quiet by nature, Tomoyo let herself slip into the comfort of anonymity. Her grasp of English, considered quite excellent by Japanese standards, was still sub-par at Clef and something else to keep her apart from her classmates. 

Tomoyo missed having friends at school, but didn't speak of her general unhappiness at home. She kept up her good spirits for her father's sake, and for Tasha's. In the letters she wrote to Sakura and the others, back in Japan, she described in detail how much she loved her father and his girlfriend, and how fascinating England was, and how wonderful school was. If Sakura ever noticed that Tomoyo never mentioned the names of any English friends, she didn't comment on the lapse. 

The weeks drifted by without Tomoyo taking much notice. It was only when the trees along Clef Academy's main walk began to bloom that Tomoyo realized that she'd been in England for nearly six months. Spring came suddenly and late, in that part of England, and as Tomoyo watched pear blossoms drift carelessly to settle on the neatly-raked gravel pathway, it suddenly occurred to Tomoyo that she'd missed the sakura blossoms in Japan. The realization was enough to bring tears to her eyes, and in an effort to escape the prying stares of her classmates (who only seemed to notice her when there was something wrong), she fled to the library. 

The library at Clef had quickly become one of Tomoyo's favorite sanctuaries. It was quiet and dusty, smelled comfortably of old leather and paper, and was paneled in richly stained wood. The library was two stories high, and Tomoyo liked to sit in the far corner on the upper level, where she could either look out over the shelves and workstations below the balcony, or stare out the window at the gardens. Today, Tomoyo was so distracted by her sudden homesickness, she she didn't even bother to select a book to take with her. She simply darted up the stairs and down the aisle toward her customary table. As she rounded the last line of shelving she ran full force into a tall, slim man carrying an enormous stack of leather-bound volumes. Both Tomoyo and the man were knocked to the ground, books thudding into the plush carpeting around them. Tomoyo rose to her knees and automatically bowed her head at him. 

"I am _so_ sorry," she apologized, moving to collect the books for him. "I was upset and didn't see where I was going." Her hand paused on the cover of the book she was about to pick up. The title was embossed in gold on the leather cover, reading _Fifteenth-Century Alchemists: Their Mystery, Madness, and Methods -- A Practical Guide_. Tomoyo glanced up at the man, wondering what sort of person would need a 'practical guide' to fifteenth-century alchemy. 

"Daidouji-san?" the man said, surprised. Tomoyo stared at him, trying to remember whether she had a class with the man -- well, boy, really. He couldn't have been much older than she was, despite his height and deep voice. His features were Japanese, which surprised Tomoyo, since she didn't think there were any other Japanese students at the Academy, though his eyes glinted strangely behind the lenses of his glasses. 

"Daidouji Tomoyo?" he repeated. "Is that really you?" 

"Yes," Tomoyo replied, frustrated that she couldn't remember who the boy was. He _did_ look familiar, but from where? "I'm sorry, I can't remember your name," she finally admitted ruefully in Japanese. It was a relief to speak her native tongue to another native. "I've been learning names ever since I enrolled here and they all get out of order in my mind." 

The boy smiled at that. "I had the same problem when I began school here. English names are strange too, which makes them even more difficult to remember." He began to pick up the rest of the fallen books. "But I was hoping you would have remembered me from my time in Tomoeda, though I was only there for a few months." 

Tomoyo's eyes widened as she suddenly recognized the boy. "Hiiragizawa Eriol?!" 

Eriol laughed and reached up to set his books on the table next to him. "The same. It's lovely to see you again, Daidouji-san," he said. His voice was, Tomoyo realized, almost exactly the same as it had been in elementary school, though significantly deeper. It had that same velvety quality to it, a sort of pull that made her return his smile with one of her own. 

"Yes, it's wonderful to see a friendly face here," Tomoyo said. "It's amazing that we've both been attending classes here for about six months and haven't even seen each other once." _Though it's probably because I've been avoiding all the other students,_ Tomoyo reminded herself. 

"I had no idea you were even _in_ England," Eriol said, reaching down for Tomoyo to hand up the rest of the books, which he set down next to the others on the table. "I haven't exchanged letters with Sakura for a while, so I'm behind on the news. Did your mother decide to relocate to England?" 

Tomoyo shook her head, but kept the smile plastered across her face. "No, my mother passed away suddenly, a little over six months ago. I'm living here with my father." 

Eriol took the news in stride, his face revealing only sympathy and polite shock. He reached down to help her to her feet. Then, instead of releasing her hand, he clasped it between both of his, squeezing reassuringly. "I'm so sorry to hear that, Daidouji-san. I had no idea, or I wouldn't have asked." He gave her a long, measuring look. "You've been having a difficult time here, haven't you?" 

Tomoyo didn't really know what he meant by 'here', whether he was talking about England, or Clef Academy, or the current situation in the library. "It hasn't been easy . . . adjusting, but I think I'm going to be happy here." Her words were accompanied by a brilliant smile meant to stave off any further uncomfortable questions. 

Eriol seemed to take the hint. In Tomoyo's memory, he'd always been good at reading body language. "I'm glad to hear that," he returned, continuing to smile. Eriol's smile hid even more than Tomoyo's. His eyes revealed even less. "I've grown quite fond of England." 

"And the people in it, from what I hear from Sakura," Tomoyo added slyly, remembering what Sakura had told her about Eriol's obvious attachment to Mizuki-sensei. As obtuse as Sakura could be at times, she was startlingly perceptive about what she read in Eriol's letters. 

Eriol's smile faltered ever so slightly, but it was enough for Tomoyo to notice. Tomoyo decided to continue with a slightly less suggestive comment, "Are you still living with Mizuki-sensei? I have letters for her from some of my friends back in Japan. I also have a few for you . . ." 

"I gave Kaho the house as a wedding present two months ago," Eriol said, still smiling. The smile was starting to make Tomoyo nervous. 

Tomoyo cocked her head curiously to one side, giving Eriol a penetrating stare. "A wedding present?" One delicate eyebrow rose in question. "I know you're Clow's reincarnation, but isn't your current form a little young to get married?" 

"Yes, it is," Eriol replied with a light laugh. "So it's a good thing I'm not married, isn't it?" 

Tomoyo gasped quietly. "So Mizuki-sensei married . . . someone else?" She was suddenly aware of how aloof Eriol had grown as a reaction to the current conversation. Or had he always been that way? It was so hard to tell sometimes . . . 

"Kaho married her childhood sweetheart," Eriol explained. "Believe it or not, he's an archaeology professor, like Kinomoto-san." He gave her a crooked little smile that made him look his age, instead of a decade older. "And oddly enough, her husband, Gregory Reed, is a direct descendant of Clow's English father's younger brother. How's that for coincidence?" 

Tomoyo was startled by Eriol's calm explanation, but she knew there was more going on here than he was letting on. "I don't mean to pry, Hiiragizawa-kun, but Sakura told me that she was _sure_ that you were . . ." Tomoyo paused, not quite sure how to phrase what she was trying to say. "Sakura-chan thought that you and Mizuki-sensei had some sort of _understanding_." 

Suddenly, Eriol seemed to lose the last of his legendary calm patience. "Well, apparently we didn't have an _understanding_, as you so delicately phrased it. With all due respect, Daidouji-san, I'd rather you didn't question me further on the subject. What happened, or didn't, between Kaho and myself is _our_ business, just as your mother's death is yours, just as your relationship with Sakura-san is your business, as well." 

Tomoyo's growing irritation flared into what passed for full-blown anger with her. "Please don't bring Sakura-chan into this, Hiiragizawa-kun," she said quietly, her lips pale, her cheeks flushed. 

Eriol's mouth curved into his usual mocking smile. "As you wish, Daidouji-san," he said affably. "We shall restrict our conversation to safer topics, if you like." He settled himself into one of the comfortable chairs around the library table and steepled his fingers on the tabletop in front of him. "So, what else shall we discuss? Hmm, have you managed to find a new circle of friends here at Clef?" Eriol's smile was almost malicious. "A new best friend, perhaps?" 

Tomoyo paled. He'd asked the exact question she _didn't_ want to answer. It was bad enough that Eriol had to be so damned smug about everything without him finding out how lonely Tomoyo was. Instead of answering, Tomoyo spun on her heel and stalked away, not bothering to excuse herself. 

Perhaps a minute later, a small voice came from the shadows of the bookshelf. "That was cruel, Master." 

Eriol sighed. "I suppose it was, Spinel," he admitted, absently running his fingers through his dark hair. "She just caught me off-guard with all her talk of Kaho. I guess I'm still kind of in shock over the whole thing. I can't understand how Kaho could leave me . . ." He shook his head slowly. "At least Daidouji-san isn't aware that I've known she was here. I didn't know she'd react quite so badly to my snipe about her lack of friends. She seemed so calm about it . . ." 

Spinel Sun, in false form, lounged on an open book, his strange eyes gazing thoughtfully at his creator. "She's much like you, in that way. She keeps everything inside, so as not to hurt those around her." Spinel's tone grew reproachful. "Mentioning Sakura was really unkind . . ." 

Eriol winced and nodded. "Yes, yes, it was, and I'm sorry for it. I guess I should apologize or something. Perhaps I ought to set up another accidental meeting?" Eriol thought for a moment, then asked, "Is Nakuru still off playing with the male population of the senior class?" 

Spinel rolled his eyes. "As far as I know, yes, he is. The moron has them all trained so that they squeal like girls and run in terror when they spot him coming." Spinel gave Eriol a suspicious look. "You're planning something, aren't you?" 

"Yes," Eriol said shortly. He was deep in thought. 

"Do I really want to know what it is?" Spinel asked wearily. 

"Probably not," Eriol replied honestly, with a ghost of a smile.   
  



	2. Intermezzo

**~~ A Cappella ~~**

**A Card Captor Sakura Fanfiction by Kit**   
  


All characters portrayed here are the property of CLAMP, Kodansha, a bunch of other Japanese media companies, and a certain Canadian dubbing company that will heretofore go unnamed. I don't claim to own these characters, but the situations I put them in belong to me. I would rather this wasn't posted anywhere without my permission (right now it can be found on the CCSFWML groups site, the CCSFWML website, and fanfiction.net), so email me with questions. Don't steal. I bite.   
  
  
  
  
  


Part Two -- Intermezzo   
  


**intermezzo** -- _n._ -- _**1: **a movement coming between the major sections of an extended musical work **2:** a usu. Brief interlude or diversion_   
  


Later that afternoon, as Tomoyo was making her way toward the front gates on her way home, she paused to watch curiously as a group of four older boys skulked in the bushes outside the library. She didn't know them, but since they wore the Clef Academy uniform, she had to assume they were upperclassmen. As one, they turned to see her staring at them. 

Instead of looking embarrassed, the boys looked nervous, almost frightened. Their eyes were darting around, as though keeping an eye out for some mysterious threat. Tomoyo finally spoke up. "Are you alright?" she asked politely, carefully pronouncing the awkward English words. She wondered if this was some strange English school tradition that Tasha and her father had failed to tell her about. 

The tallest of the boys shushed her frantically. "Be quiet! She'll hear you!" 

Tomoyo blinked. "Who?" 

"Oh, no, she's headed this way!" squeaked one of the other boys. He was busily trying to compress himself into a tiny ball, small enough to fit under the bush. 

Tomoyo peered out around the foliage in the direction the boys's were casting terrified stares. There was indeed a girl running toward the cluster of bushes, her long hair streaming out behind her. "Boys!" she called gleefully, waving in the direction of the cowering students. 

"Oh, shit," muttered a third boy. 

The boy who had been trying unsuccessfully to fit under the bush suddenly screamed and bolted from the dubious safety of the bushes, tearing across the yard towards the front gates. His friends soon followed suit. 

The approaching girl trotted up to stand next to Tomoyo, watching the boys flee, a disappointed pout on her face. "They're getting too darn good at hiding," the girl commented. 

"Ah," Tomoyo said, completely bewildered. Then Tomoyo got a good look at the girl. "_Nakuru-san?!_" 

Nakuru glanced at Tomoyo. Then her eyes widened in recognition and her face broke into an overjoyed smile. "Tomoyo-chan!" she squealed before throwing her arms around a suddenly frightened Tomoyo. "What are you doing here? It's been so long since I've seen you and oh, how you've grown! You're practically all grown up now, aren't you? And so pretty!" Nakuru giggled. "Oh, wow, it's so nice to see you again! Are you here with Sakura-chan? Did she bring her delicious brother with her? Oh, never mind, you can tell me later. Come on, I'll make you tea . . ." Without waiting for Tomoyo's response, Nakuru dragged her off by the arm. All Tomoyo could do was struggle to keep up with the taller girl's longer strides. 

Hiding in the shadows of the gatehouse, Nakuru's four former victims were watching in horrified relief. 

"Wow, that wasn't as hard as it was last time," one of them commented. 

"I know," said another. "I guess all we need is a pretty girl to distract Nakuru." 

"Well how were we to know? Until now, Nakuru's only chased guys!" 

"I feel sorry for that little girl Nakuru dragged off," a third boy commented. 

"Yeah, she was really cute," the last boy said absently. 

The other's rolled their eyes. "Don't even think about it," the first boy warned. "You don't want to attract Nakuru's attention again, do you?" 

The four boys shuddered as one.   
  


  
If Tomoyo had retained any illusions about Nakuru's apparent humanity, they would have been shattered by the time Nakuru arrived at the front of a tall, wrought-iron gate, Tomoyo still helplessly in tow. The trip had taken no more than ten minutes, but Nakuru had talked non-stop the entire time, hardly pausing for breath. Even if Tomoyo had had the breath to speak as she was jogging along behind Nakuru, she wouldn't have been able to get a word in edgewise. 

". . . is really cute," Nakuru was saying as she quickly keyed in the security code at the ornate gate, "But even Justin isn't half as much fun as Touya-kun. I bet Touya-kun's been having all sorts of fun without me." Nakuru sniffled theatrically and led the way into a small, walled garden. "Is Touya still hung up on that stiff, Yue?" 

This time, Nakuru paused long enough for Tomoyo to quickly nod and say, "They're sharing an apartment while they finish college." 

Nakuru rolled her eyes. "I should have known. Well, I still think that delicious boy is completely wasted on Yue." 

Now that Nakuru's breakneck pace was slowed, Tomoyo finally had a chance to notice her surroundings. Nakuru had dragged her to one of the quieter, upscale neighborhoods near Clef, and the small townhouse they now stood in front of looked expensive, though tasteful, lacking the ostentatious ornamentation that seemed to prevalent in the neighborhood. But it was the formal garden that truly intrigued Tomoyo. She'd slowly grown used to the new types of plants in England, but the gardening style was still totally foreign. It was still early enough in spring that the trees were almost bare, swelling buds a faint green mist across the tips of the branches. A riot of spring-blooming bulbs practically overflowed from the flowerbeds, vigorous green shoots and a profusion of blossoms: crocus, hyacinth, narcissus, and others Tomoyo hadn't learned the names for yet. 

"I love your garden," Tomoyo said after a long silence. 

Nakuru beamed. "It _is_ pretty, isn't it?" She pulled her shoes and socks off and wriggled her bare toes in the soft, cool grass. "I suppose I should thank you for the compliment, but in fact, it's not really _my_ garden. It's Eriol's of course." 

Somehow, Tomoyo wasn't surprised. She had a vague memory from his time in Japan when she heard him talk about how he loved the gardens in England. "Then please tell him I think he's done a wonderful job here." 

Nakuru glanced over at Tomoyo, and then past her. "Tell him yourself," she said with a shrug. 

"He's home?" Tomoyo wasn't quite sure she wanted to see Eriol. She knew that her questions in the library had been overly personal, and was sorry for it, but she was also still angry at him for bringing up Sakura. It was as though he knew exactly how to hurt her. She didn't think she was ready to apologize to him, or even speak to him. 

Nakuru nodded. "Yep, he's home." Again, her gaze drifted somewhere beyond Tomoyo's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. "You can come out now," she said in a somewhat louder tone. 

Tomoyo turned in time to see Eriol walk out from the concealing shadows of a vine-shrouded pergola. "I didn't want to interrupt you two," he said calmly, managing to retain his dignity despite the fact that he'd been hiding behind a bush and eavesdropping. 

"Of course," Tomoyo said, keeping her expression and tone neutral, though she was giving Eriol a faintly skeptical smile, one eyebrow delicately arched. 

"I'll go put the tea on!" caroled Nakuru before darting off down the path toward the house. 

Tomoyo watched Nakuru go, still smiling slightly. "She hasn't changed at all," she commented. 

Eriol looked slightly startled by Tomoyo's choice of pronouns but nodded his agreement. "Nakuru and Spinel are both much the same as they always were." He gave Tomoyo an apologetic smile. "I take it Nakuru dragged you here straight from school?" 

"Yes, but I didn't mind. It's a beautiful day and the exercise is probably good." Tomoyo tilted her head back to catch the warmth of the sunlight. "Spring comes later here, but faster, doesn't it?" 

Eriol kept his eyes on Tomoyo. "Sometimes the flowers bloom overnight," he said before reaching out to brush his fingers along the smooth bark of a young birch. 

"Sounds like magic, to me," Tomoyo said. It was warm enough that she decided to unbutton her sweater, letting the sweet-scented breeze brush through her hair and ruffle her uniform shirt. 

"No magic," Eriol said with a mischievous grin. "I gave up magic long ago." 

"How come I don't believe you?" Tomoyo said, matching his grin. 

"Maybe because I lied?" Eriol suggested mildly. 

"Maybe that's it," agreed Tomoyo. 

By mutual, silent agreement, Tomoyo and Eriol decided not to discuss their meeting in the library earlier that morning. Instead, Eriol showed Tomoyo around his garden. As it turned out, Nakuru had been right to call it _Eriol's_ garden. It was obvious from the way Eriol spoke of the plants that he had raised and tended them himself, had handled each seed and bulb and cutting, had coaxed life out of the rocky soil. Tomoyo found herself fascinated, not just by his descriptions of horticulture, but by the intent expression on his face. His teasing smile was gone, replaced by a look of gentle contentment mixed with intense concentration. 

"I'll invite you over again in a few weeks when the wisteria blooms," Eriol told her as he rested his hand on the shaggy bark of the huge, gnarled vine that spread across the side of the house. "It's really incredible, Daidouji-san. I know you've seen blooming wisteria in Japan, but it never grows this large there, does it?" 

Tomoyo tipped her face up, trying to see all of the huge plant at once. With the house as support, the vine climbed perhaps fifty feet up the side of the building, and spanned nearly twice that width. The base of the plant was huge, the pale bark peeling with age; Tomoyo would probably have been able to encircle it with her arms, but only barely. "I don't recognize the name," Tomoyo finally admitted. 

"Oh, they call it wisteria here in England, but it grows in Japan too." Eriol mimicked Tomoyo's posture, staring up at the branching span of the vine. "Fujitaka is probably more familiar to you . . ." 

Tomoyo's eyes widened. "Fujitaka? Are you sure it's the same plant?" Tomoyo thought back to the delicate swathes of vines she knew from Tomoeda, tipped with heavy cascades of violet blossoms. Tomoyo had never seen one that grew much higher than ten feet. 

Eriol laughed. "Yes, it's the same plant, just a different variant. They seem to grow larger here in England, though there aren't quite as many blooms. It's more wild, less cultured." 

Tomoyo was still staring at the framework of the vine across the side of the house. It was nearly impossible to imagine it in bloom, leaves and bundles of flowers practically dripping from the huge expanse of gray-barked branches. "Maybe it's something I'll have to see to really believe," she suggested tentatively. She didn't think that Eriol was truly _lying_ about the wisteria, but he certainly could be exaggerating. 

"You're probably right about that," Eriol replied easily. "I can show you some of the fruit trees that are blooming now over on the other side of the house, if you want." Eriol turned and led the way around the back side of the townhouse. "The peach blossoms are particularly nice this year, though the cherry trees are putting on a good show as well . . ." 

"Tea's ready!" came an exuberant, effeminate shout from inside. Nakuru's head appeared in the window. "Come in, you two. I want Tomoyo-chan to taste my peach tartlets. They're scrumptious! And Tomoyo-chan still needs to tell me what Touya-kun's been up to!" Nakuru disappeared once more into the house. 

"We'd better go," Eriol said, a little apologetically. "Nakuru gets pretty testy when kept waiting. And those tartlets really _are_ very good." 

Tomoyo gave Eriol her first genuine smile of the afternoon. "Then lead the way, Hiiragizawa-kun," she said. Tomoyo suspected that her meeting with Nakuru wasn't quite as accidental as it seemed, but she was content to let Eriol manipulate events. In a way, he seemed to be apologizing for his casual cruelty in the library. Tomoyo realized that she'd already forgiven him, and that he probably already knew. Instead of commenting on her suspicions, Tomoyo simply followed Eriol inside, feeling relaxed and welcome for perhaps the first time since leaving Japan. 

Tomoyo soon discovered that Nakuru's boasting was well-justified. The peach-filled pastries were perfect, the peaches sweet, slightly tart, the crust flaky, encrusted with sugar crystals that glittered tantalizingly in the afternoon sunlight. Fortunately, Tomoyo was hungrier than she'd initially thought, and between the three of them, Eriol, Nakuru and herself, they made short work of the tartlets. 

Nakuru dabbed at a remaining smudge of peach filling on her plate, a mournful expression on her face. "Oh, how I miss Touya-kun!" she lamented. "I've just been desolate without his company!" Nakuru's sorrowful words would have been more compelling had she not burped delicately at the end. 

Tomoyo stifled a giggle. 

"Very desolate, indeed," Eriol said drily. "So desolate that you can be placated by no one, not even those poor boys you harass at school . . ." 

Nakuru looked offended. "Don't be ridiculous, Eriol. They like being chased. If they didn't like being chased, then they wouldn't run, now would they?" 

"Impeccable logic," murmured Tomoyo with a hint of a dimpled smile. 

Nakuru smirked smugly at Eriol. "See? She understands." Nakuru rose from the table and began collecting the used dishes. "I'll get started on cleaning up." 

"Oh, you should let me help," Tomoyo said, starting to rise. "You already cooked for me!" 

"Don't worry about it, Tomoyo-chan!" Nakuru said with an expansive wave of her hand. "Just sit down and relax." Then, after shooting Eriol an overly casual glance, Nakuru carted the stack of dishes into the kitchen. 

"I suppose I should apologize for Nakuru," Eriol said finally. "Nakuru is my responsibility, and it's therefore my fault when . . . she gets a little excited." 

Tomoyo chuckled. "Nonsense," she said airily. "There's nothing to apologize for. I'd say we're even anyway . . ." _You hurt me in the library, but I hurt you back. Two wrongs don't make a right, but at least we're equally wrong._ Tomoyo knew Eriol was thinking along the same lines, from the slightly rueful expression on his face. 

"I'm glad you aren't angry with me, Daidouji-san," Eriol continued. "I know you must be having enough trouble settling in here without my meddling." 

"I shouldn't have pried into your affairs," Tomoyo said. It was as close to an apology as she was going to get. Then something else occurred to her. "Hiiragizawa-kun, I don't mean to offend you, or bring up painful memories, but I was hoping you would be able to give me Mizuki-sensei's address. I have a few letters and packages that I brought with me from Tomoeda, and I'm a few months late in delivering them . . ." 

"No problem," Eriol said, his voice calm, perhaps overly so. He looked completely unruffled. "I can write it down for you." He stood and walked over to where his backpack was tossed casually on a chair in the entryway. He retrieved a small notebook and pen from the pocket and returned to his seat at the table. After neatly printing the address, he handed to Tomoyo. "She's been teaching during the week, but she's generally around on the weekends. You could try her house tomorrow." 

Tomoyo could tell that it hurt him to even think about Kaho, so she accepted the scrap of paper and changed the subject. She _would_ call on Kaho tomorrow, but she didn't need to bother Eriol with the details. 

By the time Nakuru reappeared from the kitchen, it was full dark outside, and Tomoyo knew she should get home. Despite her protests, Eriol insisted on walking her home, even though it was a perfectly safe neighborhood. "I can keep you company, at least," he'd said with a winning smile. Tomoyo hadn't really had the heart to refuse him. So Tomoyo gathered her sweater and backpack and they headed out. 

The years hadn't been easy for Hiiragizawa Eriol, Tomoyo realized as she listened to his polite small talk. Despite his apparent maturity, Eriol was still only fifteen. The half of Clow's soul that resided in him gave him wisdom beyond his years, but it didn't make things easy for him. Eriol was pleasant company, and his conversation was witty and entertaining, but he seemed to feel a little awkward around Tomoyo. She wasn't sure why. Was he so unused to company? Surely he wasn't isolating himself from others, was he? Was he lonely? 

Tomoyo continued to puzzle over Eriol's rather paradoxical nature long after she arrived at her apartment building. Eriol had been charmingly polite in his farewells, promising to invite her over again soon to visit his garden and to see the wisteria in bloom. Tomoyo returned his smiles and thanked him once again for a pleasant afternoon. Then she'd disappeared into her building and he disappeared down the street. 

Tomoyo sighed as she waited for the ancient elevator to arrive in the lobby. She'd enjoyed Eriol's company more than she would have expected, even if he did occasionally make her nervous. If nothing else, he was a familiar face. _I wonder what he does with himself during and after school_, she wondered idly. _It really is odd that I hadn't seen him even once before this morning._

When Tomoyo let herself into the apartment, she was greeted by her father's suspicious frown and Tasha's sly smile. 

"Where were you all afternoon, Tomoyo?" asked Hiroshi. He was trying to sound stern, but his worry was obvious. 

"And who was that attractive young man who walked home with you?" Tasha asked, her voice teasing. 

Tomoyo almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. "That was Hiiragizawa Eriol, a friend of mine from Tomoeda. I ran into him today at school and he invited me over for tea." Tomoyo smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry I worried you, Father. I should have called." 

Hiroshi sighed. "I suppose that's alright, then," he admitted. "As long as the Hiiragizawa boy is trustworthy, then I suppose you can go out with him." 

"Go _out_ with him?!" Tomoyo was startled by her father's choice of words. Her cheeks flamed. _Is he suggesting that _Eriol_ and I are . . ._

Tasha chuckled softly. "Don't worry about Hiroshi, Tomoyo-chan," she said, affectionately wrapping her arm around Hiroshi's waist. "He's just being the usual over-protective father. Aren't you, love?" She smirked up at her boyfriend. 

Hiroshi made a valiant attempt to school his pleasant features into a scowl. "Tasha, stop teasing. This isn't your concern." 

Tasha rolled her eyes. "Why not?" she asked pointedly. 

"Tomoyo-chan is _my_ daughter, and I'd rather you didn't undermine my authority . . ." 

"Your authority? Hiroshi, dearest, most of the time you act like her older brother, instead of her father. You scared the poor child when you glared at her. I just think you need to lighten up a little bit." 

"Tasha . . ." Hiroshi was actually getting irritated now. "Let's discuss this some other time." 

Tasha was not to be sidetracked. "No, I think this is a perfectly good time to discuss this. Tomoyo _is_ your daughter, but that's only an accident of genetics. I care about her too, and since you both are living in _my_ house, I think I should have a say . . ." 

Tomoyo decided to take advantage of the distraction and slip off to her room. Tasha and her father rarely argued, since they were both so easy-going, but when they did fight, it tended to get loud. Normally Tomoyo hated their occasional verbal sparring matches, but tonight she was grateful for their preoccupation. She didn't really feel like explaining Eriol to her father. 

The mere idea that she might 'go out' with Hiiragizawa Eriol was ridiculous in it's sheer absurdity. Eriol was attractive enough, but far too strange for Tomoyo's tastes. And besides, the boy was obviously still smitten with the beautiful, mysterious, and powerful Mizuki Kaho. Why on earth would he bother with someone as mundane as Daidouji Tomoyo? Kaho carried an aura of power and grace with her wherever she went, and her own magical skills were nothing to scoff at. Tomoyo had as much magical power as the average rock. 

Thoughts of Kaho reminded Tomoyo of the scrap of paper carefully tucked into the pocket of her uniform skirt. Eriol's neat script was perfectly legible, and Tomoyo recognized the part of town that Kaho lived in. It wasn't close enough to walk to, but one of the bus routes would bring her within walking distance. She would just have to hope that her former teacher was home. Tomoyo wasn't sure what she'd do if faced with Kaho's new husband. 

Tomoyo sighed and changed into a nightgown, settling down at her vanity to brush out her hair. _It will be nice to see Mizuki-sensei again_, she thought with a smile. _And I do feel bad about keeping all those letters and that package from Sakura-chan for all these months._

The hairbrush crackled through Tomoyo's hair. She'd cut most of it off after her mother had died, but it was growing rapidly, and was now nearly as long as it had been before. Long hair was a pain to take care of, but it was the one vanity Tomoyo allowed herself. She deftly braided her hair back and tied it off. Tomoyo also missed the times when Sakura would brush her hair for her. There was something almost overwhelmingly sensual about the activity, and the feel of Sakura's fingers against her hair was one of Tomoyo's guilty pleasures . . . Tomoyo ruthlessly cut off that line of thinking. 

Tomoyo went through the motions of preparing for bed, weary beyond belief, but when she finally turned her light off and settled into bed, she found she couldn't fall asleep. She fretted about Sakura. She fretted about Eriol. She fretted about Kaho. Tomoyo rolled over onto her side. 

_I just have to stop thinking about everything tonight,_ she told herself sternly. _I'll visit Mizuki-sensei tomorrow, deliver her mail, and try to find out what happened with Eriol. If she was the one to end their relationship, then maybe she'll be more willing to talk about it._ Tomoyo's curiosity was enough to distract her from her more personal worries, and after tossing and turning for a few more minutes, she drifted off, her mind still swirling with images of Kaho's long, red hair, the light glinting off of Eriol's glasses, and a pair of painfully familiar, grass-green eyes . . .   
  


  
It took longer than Tomoyo had expected to arrive at Kaho's house. Part of the problem was that Tomoyo had the address, but didn't really know what she was looking for. She was expecting another luxury townhouse, maybe an older cottage. What she eventually found was a modest mansion. 

"Oh, my," she murmured aloud as she stood in front of the gate. The facade was imposing, but not enough to faze someone like Tomoyo. The Daidouji house in Tomoeda had been only slightly smaller. 

_So Eriol gave this to her as a wedding present?_ Tomoyo thought as she rang the bell next to the gate. _It's a pretty impressive present._

"Hello?" The faintly familiar voice came over through the intercom box next to the gate. "Can I help you?" A video camera swivelled to fix on Tomoyo. 

Tomoyo nervously cleared her throat. "My name is Tomoyo Daidouji and I came to visit Kaho Mizuki, if she's home." 

There was a significant pause, then the voice spoke again. "Tomoyo-chan? What are . . . Oh, never mind. I'll come and meet you in a minute. Here, I'm opening the gate . . ." 

The automated mechanism of the iron gate whirred and clicked and the gate slide sideways enough to admit Tomoyo. A minute and a half later, a tall, leggy redhead in blue gym shorts and a grimy gray tank top came jogging around the corner of the gatehouse. It took Tomoyo a moment to recognize her former teacher. 

"Daidouji Tomoyo!" Kaho called, her face lit by a genuinely pleased smile. "How wonderful to see you again." She pulled Tomoyo into a gentle embrace, then pulled back to examine Tomoyo's face. Kaho's smile faltered slightly at what she saw there. "Let's go inside, Tomoyo," she said quietly. "It's too chilly to stand around outside in the shorts I'm wearing." 

Kaho lead the way around the house to a smaller, less imposing side door, then inside to a small, sunlit sitting room. "I hope you'll excuse my appearance," Kaho said with a quick grin. "I've been changing the air filters all over the house, and it's generally better if I don't wear nice clothes when I do that. I'm pretty dusty." She shook her head briskly, a cloud of dust rising from her hair. 

"You . . . cut your hair," Tomoyo commented inanely. Tomoyo had never really considered Kaho to be the type to do mundane tasks like changing air filters, and it was startling to see her so . . . informal. So Tomoyo's mind focused on the obvious change in her appearance. 

"I did," Kaho said, brushing her fingers through her chin-length locks. "I felt it was time for a change, and Greg seems to like it." 

Tomoyo regained her composure enough to smile politely and say, "Oh, yes, I hear I'm to congratulate you. Hiiragizawa-kun said you got married a couple months ago. You seem very happy." 

"Thank you, Tomoyo-chan," replied Kaho. "I am very happy. Greg is truly my soulmate, and I only regret that my duties kept me from him for so long. I'd love to introduce you to him sometime. He's away at a conference right now, though." 

"I'm sure he's a wonderful man." Tomoyo slowly relaxed into her seat. "And besides, I don't think Hiiragizawa-kun would have given you up so easily if your husband wasn't wonderful." Tomoyo knew she was being nosy, but she was still curious about what had happened between Kaho and Eriol. 

Fortunately, Kaho didn't seem to mind Tomoyo's implicit questions. Instead, she seemed almost eager to talk to someone so interested in her story. "Easily? I don't know what Eriol told you, but his reaction was anything _but_ easy." With a rueful shake of her head, Kaho rose to her feet. "I'll tell you all about it in just a moment. I'm going to go see if there's are any of the shortbread left. Greg made it yesterday and you look a little hungry. I'll be right back." 

Tomoyo watched, bemused, as Kaho slipped out through the doorway. _Why is it that they always want to feed me sweets?_ Tomoyo wondered. _Am I too skinny or something?_

Kaho soon returned with a plate of butter-gold slabs of shortbread. The shortbread really was delicious, fresh enough that it still crumbled at Tomoyo's touch and melted in her mouth. 

"Greg's a great cook," Kaho said proudly after Tomoyo declared that the cookies were incredible. "It's his mother's shortbread recipe. It's even better than Nakuru's." 

"I won't tell Nakuru-san that, though," Tomoyo said with a faint smile. "Somehow, I don't think that would go over well." 

"You're probably right," Kaho conceded with a sigh. "I do miss having Kaho and Spinel around, though. They certainly kept things lively. Or at least, Nakuru did." 

"But you don't miss Hiiragizawa-kun?" Tomoyo asked curiously. 

Kaho hesitated, trying to pick the words to best explain the situation. "I do miss Eriol, miss him dreadfully, but I also love my husband, and I know that my decision to leave Eriol was good for both of us." 

"Eriol didn't seem to think so." Tomoyo nibbled on another piece of shortbread. "I think he's still hurt." 

"Eriol doesn't really understand yet." Kaho looked quietly determined. "Neither does Clow. And that's the root of the problem. The part of Eriol that is Clow Reed depends too much on his magic for guidance. He sometimes seems to forget that he's only fifteen. He can't understand that I'm _not_ his fated partner." 

"What do you mean, 'fated'?" 

Kaho sighed. "Well, to make a long, boring story short and concise, Clow Reed has always been surrounded by prophecies. The stars foretold his birth hundreds of years before hand. Clow knew the moment of his death since childhood, since he could read it in the fall of ash leaves on a still pond. A few of Clow's prophecies relate to me, and I'm generally referred to as the 'Voice of Silence'." Kaho smiled in a slightly self-deprecatingly. "The prophecies were referring to my bell, of course." 

Tomoyo nodded in sudden understanding, remembering the bell in question. Kaho had been fated to give Sakura, Clow's chosen successor, a second chance during the final Judgement of Yue. It made a certain sort of sense to Tomoyo. Kaho continued her explanation. 

"But there are no further references to the 'Voice of Silence' after the Judgement, and it's generally been assumed that my task is complete now. But just because my role in Clow's great destiny is now rendered obsolete, that doesn't mean that my own powers and skills are gone. I still read fate in the sacred flames, still dream Clow's prophecies. I've caught hints of my own future, as well as Eriol's. They aren't the same future." 

Tomoyo frowned slightly. "Oh. I suppose that's clear enough." 

"Well, it didn't satisfy Eriol." Kaho absently rubbed at a patch of dirt on her shirt. "He wanted more concrete proof that we weren't destined to be together. Then, about six months ago, Eriol himself fell into a prophetic trance. I managed to write down everything he said, and fortunately Eriol trusts me enough to believe what was said. To summarize, the prophecy said that I was not destined for Clow, but for Clow's brother. And Clow had his own life-partner out there waiting for him, a new 'Voice'. Clow would finally gain an anchor to keep him firmly tied to the real world." 

"Of course, this made no sense for a while, and we decided not to worry about it. Puzzles like prophecy have a tendency to solve themselves with time. Then I met Gregory Reed again. We dated in college, but I hadn't seen him in years. He has no magical talent, to speak of, but Eriol recognized him almost immediately as a descendant of Clow's uncle. I suppose that makes Greg more of a cousin than a brother, to Clow, but . . ." Kaho shrugged philosophically. "Such is the nature of auguries. Eriol and I argued, and I moved out. We eventually made up, but I knew that the time had come for me to leave. Greg proposed about a month later, Eriol gave us the house, and the rest is history. Pretty pathetic story, isn't it?" 

Tomoyo's eyes were wide as she absorbed the flood of information. _And I thought I'd left the supernatural stuff back in Tomoeda with Sakura-chan. I guess I never thought it would find me again in England . . ._

"I think I can understand why Hiiragizawa-kun might still be a little unhappy, though," Tomoyo said, after a long, thoughtful pause. "I'd be hurt if someone I loved left because of some mysterious dream I had." 

Kaho smiled gently. "It wasn't just the prophecy, Tomoyo-chan. I fell in love with Greg all over again. I've always loved Eriol, but it's not the kind of love he wanted from me. He complained that I couldn't see past his physical age, but we both know that has nothing to do with it." 

Tomoyo sighed and closed her eyes. "It's all very romantic and tragic, Mizuki-sensei," she said in a subdued voice. "Like something out of a fairy tale. And the reincarnated sorcerer is still searching for his one true love . . ." 

"Ah, yes," Kaho said with a chuckle. "This mysterious 'Voice' person. The wording is so similar to the usual prophetic references to myself, that Eriol and I were confused for a while, but there's definitely someone else out there for him. He just hasn't met her yet. Or him, maybe. There wasn't a gender implied in the wording of the prophecy." 

Despite some of Eriol's more effeminate mannerisms, Tomoyo had a hard time imagining him with another man. "I bet it's a woman," she murmured thoughtfully. "Or a girl, rather." 

Kaho watched Tomoyo for a long moment, noting the girl's distant expression. Tomoyo was obviously intrigued by the story, but she also seemed lonely. Kaho smiled to herself. In the back of her mind, she felt something _click_, and a quick vision of Eriol's smiling face flashed before her mind's eye. For a moment, Kaho _knew_, with all the certainty that she possessed, that Tomoyo would play a part in this little drama. "You could be right," Kaho finally agreed, still watching the oblivious Tomoyo. "Maybe you ought to help Eriol keep an eye out for this 'Voice' girl?" 

Tomoyo blinked, starting from her reverie. She flushed faintly with embarrassment at being caught daydreaming. "I wouldn't want to intrude upon them," she said quickly. 

"But you did such an excellent job with Sakura-chan and her young man, didn't you?" 

"I suppose I did," Tomoyo said, pride evident in her voice. "But I suspect Li-kun would have gotten his act together all on his own, even if I hadn't been there to give him the occasional push. Of course, it might have taken him another decade to do it, but still . . ." 

Kaho laughed and shook her head. "I think sometimes you underestimate your own worth, Tomoyo-chan. You affect the people around you more than you think." 

Tomoyo's cheeks flushed a little once more. "I don't know . . ." 

"Well, I wouldn't want to force you into anything, but I think you might want to try spending more time with Eriol. I know he enjoys your company, and you'll find he's a fairly fun kid to be around, as long as he isn't in one of his moods. And you can flex your matchmaking skills again when you find a potential 'Voice.'" Kaho winked. 

"That sounds like it might be fun," Tomoyo decided with a sly grin of her own. "Eriol always liked to manipulate events behind the scenes, didn't he? I wonder how he would feel if we turned the tables on him?" 

The question hung in the air for a few moments before teacher and former-student burst into laughter. Kaho might have been more than a decade older than Tomoyo, but in that instant, they were simply friends, equals, giggling at the stubborn behavior of a mutual acquaintance. Magic and prophecy were all very well and good, but sometimes shortbread and smiles are more efficient.   
  



	3. Staccato

**~~ A Cappella ~~**

**A Card Captor Sakura Fanfiction by Kit**   
  


All characters portrayed here are the property of CLAMP, Kodansha, a bunch of other Japanese media companies, and a certain Canadian dubbing company that will heretofore go unnamed. I don't claim to own these characters, but the situations I put them in belong to me. I would rather this wasn't posted anywhere without my permission (right now it can probably be found on the CCSFWML groups site, the CCSFWML website, and fanfiction.net), so email me with questions. Don't steal. I bite.   
  
  
  


Part Three -- Staccato   
  


**staccato** -- _adj._ -- _**1: **marked by short clear-cut playing or singing of tones or chords **2:** abrupt, disjointed_   
  
  
  


"You're smiling again," commented Spinel, who was curled up on a sunny window sill in Eriol's study. 

"Am I?" Eriol's smile widened and he paused in his reading. "Is there something wrong with that?" 

"Not 'wrong', exactly," Spinel said. "Just odd. It's not your usual smile." Spinel unwound from his napping position and stretched. "Shouldn't you be practicing for the concert anyway?" He fluttered over to settle on Eriol's shoulder, peering curiously at the book his creator was reading. 

"I'm tired of practicing," Eriol declared. 

"So you're reading over your old prophecies?" Spinel sounded skeptical. "Are those dusty old predictions more interesting than the piano?" 

"Not particularly, but I thought I ought to refresh my memory. I have a feeling something's going to happen soon." Eriol closed the book with a sigh. 

Spinel stiffened. "Something's going to happen?!" He frowned and paced back and forth across Eriol's shoulder. "You don't seem all that concerned about it . . ." he said reproachfully. 

"It's nothing major, Spinel," Eriol assured his friend. "I just got a quick flash of something when Daidouji Tomoyo was over yesterday." 

Spinel jumped down to settle in Eriol's lap. "I don't know anything about your prophecies, but I _do_ like that girl. She's tougher than she looks." The tiny creature shot Eriol a pleased look. "And she's at _least_ as clever as you are." 

Eriol snorted. "I don't know about _that_, Spinel," he scoffed, absently scratching under Spinel's chin. "But she _was_ the mind behind nearly everything that happened back at Tomoeda Elementary, despite her determination to work behind the scenes." Eriol smiled as Spinel began to purr contentedly. "Her manipulations of Li-kun were masterful." 

"As were yours," Spinel reminded Eriol. "You know, she's a lot like you." 

"Hmm . . ." It was an intriguing thought, and one that made a lot of sense. Aside from Tomoyo's quiet cleverness, she was mature beyond her years, and nearly as introverted as Eriol himself. Eriol had learned of Tomoyo's arrival in England only two weeks after the fact, but had decided to give the girl her space instead of approaching her immediately. While they had certainly been polite to each other back at Tomoeda, Eriol and Tomoyo had never really been friends, and Eriol had suspected that she wouldn't appreciate meddling. So he'd watched her from a distance for a few months. He knew she was lonely, since her lingering grief over her mother's death kept her isolated, but hadn't interfered. Now, as he puzzled over her situation, he felt guilty for not meeting her earlier. 

"She's also lonely," Spinel commented blandly, confirming Eriol's own silent estimation. 

Eriol glanced down at the feline creature in his lap and quirked an eyebrow. "Are you trying to not-so-subtly suggest something, Spinel?" he asked suspiciously. 

"Would I do that?" Spinel sounded appropriately dismayed by the suggestion. 

"Yes, you would," Eriol told his creation. 

"Hmm . . ." said Spinel as he curled languorously on Eriol's thigh, his expression inscrutable, as usual.   
  


  
For the first time since starting school in England, Tomoyo awoke in a good mood on Monday morning. Aside from her meeting with Kaho on Saturday morning, and the time when her father accidentally set off the smoke alarm in the kitchen due to some charred muffins on Sunday, her weekend had been relatively laid back. This was good because Tomoyo had found that her talk with Kaho had posed more questions than it had answered. 

Kaho had been more than helpful in explaining what had happened to Eriol, but it only made Tomoyo more curious. By the time Tomoyo had delivered Sakura's package and the rest of the letters to her former teacher, Tomoyo had a dozen new questions that she was dying to ask Kaho. Tomoyo was too polite to bombard Kaho with the decidedly personal questions she was pondering, which meant that for the rest of the weekend, Tomoyo was stuck with her own swirling thoughts. 

_He's changed, _Tomoyo thought absently as she wove her way through the crowded hallways of the Academy on the way to her first class. _He's not the same boy I knew back in Tomoeda_. 

Then Tomoyo had to stifle a giggle. _Well, of _course_ he's not the same boy. _I'm_ not the same girl. It's been a good five years. Everyone grows up, even the reincarnation of Clow Reed._ But Tomoyo still had the nagging feeling that there was something fundamentally different about Hiiragizawa Eriol. Tomoyo hoped she'd run into Eriol again soon, if for no other reason than to try and sneak a few more answers out of him. 

Morning classes passed uneventfully. After lunch break, Tomoyo arrived at her math class ten minutes before the teacher did, so she settled down at her usual desk, pulled out the homework assignment, and promptly zoned out. Slowly, she became aware of a conversation taking place behind her between a small group of boys. Tomoyo knew that eavesdropping wasn't a particularly savory habit, but at the moment, she couldn't bring herself to care about politeness. 

"And I haven't seen her since Friday afternoon," one of the boys said, his voice a peculiar mingling of astonishment and relief. 

"Me neither," another boy added. 

"I still don't believe you," a third boy said. Tomoyo caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye. He had a highly skeptical look on his face as he absently brushed his fingers through his stylish fringe of chestnut-brown hair. "Akizuki's been chasing us for months and I find it _very_ unlikely that she's suddenly decide to chase after some little girl." 

"Oh, shove it, Justin," responded the fourth boy. Tomoyo had a clear view of this one, and watched the pale, slender boy dismiss the skeptical Justin with a wave his hand. "Just because that lunatic has found something else to chase is no reason to be jealous of a little girl." 

Justin looked offended. "_Jealous_?!" His voice cracked slightly. Despite the fact that he was tall, with broad shoulders and chiseled features, Tomoyo suspected he was only a year or two older than she was. "You think I actually _liked_ being stalked by some crazy girl all year?" He shook his head quickly. "No way, Colin. You sound almost as crazy as Akizuki." 

The pale, smirking Colin laughed. His voice was much lower, richer than one would suspect from such a slight boy. "Say whatever you want, Justin," he replied, "But we were there, and we saw how Akizuki practically carried the girl off." Tomoyo recognized the boy as the pretty blonde who had been attempting to hide under a bush to escape from Nakuru this past Friday. "So it looks like you've got competition, Justin." Colin gave Justin another smug smile. "Maybe you ought to go check out the girl before you get your boxers in a bunch, eh?" 

Justin frowned. "What are you getting at?" 

"Before you get all jealous over this new girl, you should take a look at her. She's much prettier than Akizuki is." Colin elbowed another boy next to him. "She's not my type, but some of the others were about ready to attempt a rescue of the girl. Ben here actually called her 'hot'." 

The boy he elbowed turned brilliant scarlet. "Uh . . ." 

Justin's faint scowl had faded to a look of vague curiosity. "She's cute?" he mused absently. 

"Very," confirmed Colin. 

"Well, point her out next time you see her," Justin decided. 

"She's sitting right in front of you, dolt," Colin muttered. "The new Japanese girl." 

There was a long silence and Tomoyo could feel her cheeks heating up. Her back prickled under the stares of the boys. She did her best to keep ignoring them. 

"You can stop pretending not to hear us, Daidouji," Colin said in a slightly louder voice. "Why don't you turn around so Justin can check you out." 

With a long-suffering sigh, Tomoyo turned around in her seat. She was still blushing under the obviously appreciative gazes of the five boys, but she managed to retain her air of aloof superiority. "Do I meet with your approval?" she asked archly, pleased with her own ability to adapt to the situation. 

"Oh, I'd say so," Colin answered gaily. Justin was still eyeing Tomoyo. 

Justin was, if Tomoyo remembered correctly, one of the boys that Nakuru had been chattering about on the way to Eriol's house last Friday. He was just as lovely as Nakuru had described, with a statuesque build and classically handsome features. Huge blue eyes and ridiculously thick dark lashes didn't hurt either. 

Ben, a shorter boy with a tousled mass of curly red hair, was gazing at Tomoyo with undisguised adoration. She wasn't sure if it was because he thought she was 'hot', or whether it was because she'd drawn the attention of Nakuru. 

"You've become famous almost overnight, Daidouji," Colin continued casually. "You're the first girl at Clef who's pretty enough to draw Akizuki away from us pretty boys. She's been chasing us around the school for months." He shot Justin a sly glance. "Justin might be a little jealous, but I think the rest of us are ready to worship you." 

Justin cuffed Colin absently on the side of the head. "Shut up, brat," he muttered. Then he gave Tomoyo a quick, winning smile. "We're all pretty astounded by what happened. And don't worry about Colin. He just likes the sound of his own voice." 

"Well of course I like the sound of my own voice!" proclaimed Colin in ringing tones. "Who doesn't?" 

Justin smacked him again. Tomoyo almost smiled. It felt a bit odd to be included in a conversation among friends, but it was also rather nice. And the boys themselves were certainly easy on the eyes. Colin hadn't been exaggerating when he'd called them 'pretty boys.' Justin was obviously attractive, and Colin was just as pretty, with his long, pale-blonde hair and bright green eyes. Ben looked like the living incarnation of some literary Puck, with his vibrant red hair and pointed, pixie-like features. The other two boys were equally cute. The tall, muscular one was introduced as Bertram, but he promptly begged Tomoyo to call him Bertie, and Tomoyo found she had a hard time resisting his wide smile and friendly, freckle-dotted features. The final boy was almost impossibly effeminate with the most beautiful face Tomoyo had ever seen on a boy. He had dark hair that fell in waves over his eyes as he introduced himself as St. John, more frequently called Sin. It turned out that these five boys were the most frequent targets of Nakuru's rather predatory instincts, and as a result, had become close friends. 

Tomoyo soon realized that Colin was the one drawing her into the group, but she wasn't quite sure of his motives. He didn't seem attracted to her, as both Justin and Ben appeared to be, and he didn't seem to care all _that_ much about what had happened with Nakuru. Colin listened carefully to the few comments that Tomoyo made, and smiled frequently at her, but Tomoyo still wasn't able to tell what he wanted from her. 

"So when Nakuru dragged you off, where'd she take you?" Colin eventually asked curiously. "She's never actually tried to kidnap any of us." 

"It wasn't really kidnaping," Tomoyo replied with a faint smile. "I met Akizuki-san several years ago when she and Hiiragizawa Eriol lived in Japan. Hiiragizawa-kun was in my class at school, so I got to know Akizuki-san fairly well through him." 

Something glinted in Colin's green eyes. "Hiiragizawa, eh? So I guess that means she dragged you to his house?" 

Tomoyo nodded. "Hiiragizawa-kun was there and he showed me his garden. It was nice to see him again after so many years. I didn't know he went to Clef Academy." 

Sin chuckled. "I'm surprised you didn't run into him any earlier. He's around all the time." He winked impishly at Tomoyo. "Maybe he was hiding from you." 

"Or maybe he was watching you from the shadows," added Bertie with a mysterious smile. 

"Oh, come off it, Bertie," Colin scoffed. He gave Tomoyo a conspiratorial glance. "Bertie always has these romantic theories about people. Now that he and Sin have finally stopped moping around and gotten together, he's determined to pair the rest of his friends up." 

"But he's stopped bugging me about it," Justin said with a meaningful glance toward the taller Bertie. "Bertie finally figured out that I didn't much care for his little insinuations about myself and Nakuru or those other girls." 

Bertie had the grace to look slightly abashed, but Sin looked ready to defend his friend. Fortunately for Justin, the teacher interrupted the impending argument by arriving. Math class flew by for Tomoyo, as she was fully absorbed by the novelty of making actual _friends_. It was something she'd missed in the months since she left Tomoeda. 

When class was over, the five boys escorted her to her next class. Justin and Ben were still watching her appraisingly, making Tomoyo a little nervous. She wasn't used to being stared at, just as she wasn't used to being proclaimed 'hot.' Bertie and Sin were chatting amiably with her, however, and Colin's sly grins were carefully calculated to put her at ease. When they finally dropped her off at her Arts class, Tomoyo was forced to admit that she liked the attention. 

Clef's special advanced Performing Arts rotation was Tomoyo's favorite class. An audition had been required for acceptance to the class, something that had worried Tomoyo at first. She didn't have much experience with acting or dancing, since music was her true forte, but she didn't feel comfortable singing anymore. The last notes she'd sung were still echoing through a tiny chapel back in Japan. Fortunately, Tomoyo was also tolerably proficient on the piano, and her father's last gift to her before Sonomi left him was a silver-toned flute, which Tomoyo had learned to play when she was young. Her audition's flute performance had gone off remarkably well, and after learning that Tomoyo could also play the piano enough to accompany the choir or the dance recitals, the Arts director had gleefully accepted her into his elite class of performers. 

The class had initially concentrated on theater, something that Tomoyo didn't feel at all comfortable with. She had a hard enough time keeping up her seamless facade without having to try to act like yet _another_ person. The dance unit had gone off a little easier, since Tomoyo was more confident about her dancing abilities. It helped that you weren't generally required to perform a ringing monologue while waltzing. The latest segment of the class concentrated on music, specifically instrumental music. Tomoyo found that she'd missed music. Singing was still too painful, but her father's flute was a beautiful instrument, and Tomoyo was able to comfortably lose herself in it's soaring tones without the memory of her mother's funeral intruding. 

As Tomoyo entered the classroom, a few minutes before the beginning of class, she remembered that the instrumental portion of the music unit had finished up last week. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she realized what would come next. She sank slowly down into her chair, wishing she could sink further, down through the floor, through the foundations of the school, past the loam and the bedrock . . . 

"Is everybody ready to sing?" caroled the elderly little man who directed the Arts rotation. 

There were a few groans, a few weak cheers, and many silences among the students. Tomoyo remained silent, still wishing she could escape somehow. _I can't sing_, she thought, beginning to panic. _I just don't think I can do this. Maybe the director will let me go to the clinic . . ._

"All of you seem quite excited about the new vocal segment of our music class," the white-haired Arts director continued. "But before you even open your mouths, I need to introduce you to another student who's going to be helping us out with the piano accompaniment." 

Tomoyo's head shot up and she stared at the director. 

"Miss Daidouji has done a lovely job on the piano for our previous sessions, but I think we'll need her vocal talents for the upcoming classes. So I've arranged for one of my upper level students to assist us." The man absently slid his spectacles back up the ridge of his nose. "Mr. Hiiragizawa? Would you please join us now?" 

"Certainly, Mr. Phillips," a familiar voice rang out from the shadowy recesses of the practice room at the rear of the auditorium. Hiiragizawa Eriol gave the class a cheerful smile. "Good afternoon, everyone," he said pleasantly. 

"This is Eriol Hiiragizawa, class," the director explained. "Mr. Hiiragizawa? If you could take a seat at the piano, I'll go through some of the basic vocal exercises that we'll be doing to warm up." 

Tomoyo was already screaming inside her head. _So now Hiiragizawa-kun's here to witness my gradual mental breakdown. Could this possibly get any worse?_

"Unfortunately, my voice is not what it used to be," Mr. Phillips announced wryly, eliciting a wave of snickers from the students. While Mr. Phillips was said to have been a relatively decent baritone as a younger man, he was nearly seventy years old now, and his voice had slid to a dusty, weary tenor. "I'll need someone to assist me with my demonstration here." There was a pause as he scanned his class. 

Tomoyo winced as a flash of foresight struck her. _Oh, please no . . . not now . . ._

"Miss Daidouji? I believe you have some singing experience, yes?" Mr. Phillips was beaming. 

Tomoyo had no choice but to nod. 

"Then I'm sure you are familiar with most of these exercises I'm going to teach. Would you mind coming up to the piano and demonstrating as I explain?" 

"Certainly, Mr. Phillips," Tomoyo echoed softly, rising to her feet and heading towards Eriol and the piano with all the eagerness of a prisoner approaching the headsman's block.   
  


  
"That was an hour and a half of pure hell," Tomoyo muttered when Arts was finally over. She gathered her school bag and made a beeline for the door. 

"It could have been worse," Eriol commented as he came up behind her. Tomoyo had never figured out how he moved so fast. She could have sworn he was still back at the piano. "Mr. Phillips could have asked you to demonstrate the full range of a first-rate lyric soprano by making you sing something in Italian." 

Tomoyo gave Eriol a long, steady look before finally agreeing. "You're probably right, Hiiragizawa-kun." She sighed mournfully. "I wish he'd let me stick with the piano." 

"You didn't play the piano back in Tomoeda," Eriol said softly. There was an odd expression on his face, one that Tomoyo couldn't quite place. 

"No, but in middle school I helped out our choir director by accompanying some of the younger children during concerts. I learned by trial and error, basically." Tomoyo regained a little of her usual composure and flashed Eriol a brief, brilliant smile. "Of course, I'm still not even half as good as you are," she added. 

Eriol smiled modestly. Or at least he made a good attempt at it. "You were probably cleverer than I was," he said wryly. "I've been accompanying nearly every choral concert and musical theater performance here for the past four years. I never seem to be able to wiggle out of the responsibility." 

Tomoyo snorted. She could see through his false chagrin in an instant. "You didn't seem too unhappy to help Mr. Phillips out in class," she noted as she headed down the hallway. 

Eriol chuckled. "Hmm, perhaps you're right." He fell silent for a while, keeping pace with Tomoyo as she made her way outside into the late afternoon sunshine. He seemed perfectly content to walk along with Tomoyo, but she suspected there was something else he wanted to say to her. 

Outside the front gates of Clef Academy, Eriol finally stopped walking, and gently pulled Tomoyo to one side of the walkway. "Are you sure you're alright, Daidouji-san?" he asked seriously. "You looked ready to faint in Arts class today. Did something happen?" 

To Tomoyo's horror and utter embarrassment, she felt her eyes fill with tears. "No, it's nothing, Hiiragizawa-kun. I felt a little ill, that's all." It took all of Tomoyo's significant willpower to keep the tears from spilling down her cheeks. Instead she stood wide-eyed and unblinking in the bright sunlight, her facial expression daring Eriol to push the issue. _He's too polite to ask me any more about this . . ._ she thought hopefully. 

Instead of apologizing, Eriol merely pulled a clean, neatly folded white handkerchief from the pocket of his blazer and handed it wordlessly over to Tomoyo. He watched her as she dabbed daintily at her eyes. "Now tell me what's really wrong," he asked gently. 

"It was the singing," Tomoyo admitted finally. 

Eriol raised an eyebrow. "You don't like to sing anymore?" He seemed perplexed. "You still have one of the most beautiful voices I've ever heard . . ." 

The inadvertent compliment wasn't enough to pull Tomoyo from her self-induced depression. "I haven't sung a note since my mother's funeral," Tomoyo explained. 

Eriol suddenly looked horrified at his own tactlessness. "I'm so sorry for prying, Daidouji-san," he said, his voice and eyes sincere. "If I had known, I would never have . . ." He cut his own words off, and looked a little embarrassed. 

Tomoyo had a sudden insight. "You arranged that whole thing, didn't you?" She took a slightly menacing step towards Eriol. Eriol took a small step backward, despite the fact that the suddenly-angry girl before him barely came up to his shoulder, and was almost painfully thin. "You arranged to come to my class to play the piano, and you arranged for Mr. Phillips to pick me to demonstrate." Her eyebrows drew together. "There's no way he would have known I sang unless you told him . . ." 

For a moment, it looked as though Eriol was going to deny Tomoyo's accusations, but he finally just sighed and nodded. "Guilty as charged." He gave Tomoyo an almost ridiculously piteous pout. "Can you ever forgive me, Daidouji-san?" 

Tomoyo contemplated throttling Eriol, but quickly came to the realization that he probably hadn't meant any harm by his meddling, and she'd therefore be choking the closest thing she had to a friend here in England. Tomoyo tried instead to scowl at Eriol. "No, I don't think I _can_ ever forgive you." 

Eriol drooped visibly, though his eyes were glinting with suppressed merriment. He could tell that Tomoyo wasn't really angry with him anymore. So he turned on the charm. "But Daidouji-san, there must be _some_ way I can make up for my terrible behavior!" He performed an elaborate, courtly bow. "I am yours to command!" 

"Yeah, right," Tomoyo muttered. The concept of ordering Hiiragizawa Eriol around was too bizarre to even contemplate. 

"But honestly, Daidouji-san," Eriol continued, dropping his facade slightly. "I'm really sorry for intruding. I made a mistake, and I want to make it up to you." He smiled faintly. "How about a piano concert?" 

Tomoyo raised an eyebrow. "When?" 

"This Friday night." Eriol grinned. "It's only a student concert at Clef, but it's looking to be a good one, and the tickets are already sold out. Fortunately, I happen to have two tickets on hand." He pulled a small envelope out of his blazer pocket and passed it to Tomoyo. "Invite one of those charming young men in your math class to go along with you. Several of them seem awfully fond of you already . . ." 

To her credit, Tomoyo didn't flush. "You mean you're giving me these tickets but you won't come along with me?" Tomoyo gave him a patently skeptical look. "It sounds to me like you're skimping out on your apology, Hiiragizawa-kun." 

Eriol hung his head mournfully. "I would love to accompany you to the concert, but I'm already scheduled for that evening." 

"And what's more important than apologizing to me for your terrible social blunder, if I may ask?" Tomoyo was having difficulty keeping a straight face. She glanced down at the tickets. "Not only would you miss my company for the evening but you'll miss an exclusive performance by the critically acclaimed young pianist . . ." She paused, blinked, and re-read the name on the ticket. 

"Actually, I'm performing in the concert," Eriol replied with a rather smug smile. 

"Oh," murmured Tomoyo.   
  


  
Eriol hadn't been boasting when he'd said that the tickets to his concert were sold out. Of course, it wasn't until Tomoyo was faced with the scalpers outside of the theater that she realized just how popular the concert was. 

"Now I see why you jumped at the chance to come with me to this thing," Tomoyo murmured to the young man at her side. 

Colin grinned back at her. "Didn't I mention that I'd been trying to buy someone's ticket for the past two weeks?" 

"You might have said something like that, but I think I missed it in between all the "thank you's" you were babbling at me," Tomoyo replied wryly. She was waiting in line with Colin to get into the theater, but the line wasn't moving terribly quickly. Fortunately Colin was an amusing conversationalist, and the pair had hit it off almost immediately. Despite Justin and Ben's rather clumsy flirting, it was Colin that Tomoyo had found herself most drawn to. So when Eriol had thrust his "apology tickets" at her, suggesting that she invite one of her new friends, her choice of Colin hadn't been that difficult. Fortunately, he had eagerly taken her up on her offer, and agreed with her in her assurances that it _wasn't_ a date. 

"It's really odd to think that Hiiragizawa Eriol is almost a teen idol over here," Tomoyo commented to Colin as they neared the entrance of the theater. 

Colin gave Tomoyo a strange look. "Why's it odd?" he asked. "I'll agree that he's pretty quiet, but he's also really talented, aside from his dashing good looks and brilliant intellect." 

Tomoyo couldn't quite tell whether Colin was joking, but she shrugged absently. "I don't know. I guess I always had him pegged as kind of a loner. He spent most of his time in Tomoeda apart from the other students." _Like me,_ Tomoyo added silently. 

Colin chuckled. "Well, he is a bit of a loner, but that's part of his appeal, Tomoyo." His smile softened slightly. "He's like one of those, um, whaddya call 'em in Japan? Bishies?" 

"Bishounen," Tomoyo said between giggles. "Or at least I think that's what you're talking about." 

"Hey, be nice. My Japanese is pretty rough around the edges." Colin rolled his eyes. "It's nowhere near as good as your English is." He gave her a charming smile, green eyes glinting mischievously. 

"Flatterer," Tomoyo admonished playfully, tucking her arm around Colin's. She was surprised to find that she was really enjoying herself. Colin was good company. 

"Of course," replied Colin with another cocky grin before leading Tomoyo inside the theater and down to their seats. 

The theater was packed, as expected. It was odd to see so many of Tomoyo's fellow students wearing something other than their uniforms. The Clef students were decked out in all their finery, and the audience was dotted with every color of the rainbow. Tomoyo felt a little underdressed in her filmy pale-green dress, elegant but plain, but Colin had assured her that she looked fabulous and that all the other guys would be jealous of him, since he was lucky enough to be with her. 

"It's definitely interesting to come to one of Hiiragizawa's concerts with an old friend of his," Colin commented once they were settled into their seats. "You can give me all the dirt on our supremely talented classmate." 

Tomoyo chuckled. "I can probably do better than that, Colin," she said quietly as the lights began to dim. "I bet I could get you back to meet him after the show." 

Colin didn't respond vocally, since the concert was clearly about to begin, but Tomoyo caught the flash of his grin in the faint light, and could practically feel him quiver in excitement next to her. _Yep, definitely a fan_, Tomoyo decided, smiling inwardly. 

Eriol soon appeared on stage, decked out in a tuxedo, bowed modestly to the audience then took his seat at the piano. Tomoyo was impressed by how composed he seemed up there. It had been a while since she'd performed on stage in front of any sizeable audience, and the mere memory gave her chills. Her stage fright tended to be almost paralyzing. But Eriol seemed completely unruffled. 

If Tomoyo hadn't had the program right in front of her, she wouldn't have been able to recognize the pieces that Eriol played. They were all beautiful, an intriguing mix of classical concertos and modern pieces, but it wasn't the usual college concert fare. Eriol's little performance in Arts class had reminded her that he was skilled at the piano; tonight's concert reminded her that not only was he skilled, but he was a musician. 

Perhaps even more than the flair with which he performed, Tomoyo was fascinated by Eriol's facial expressions. The tickets Eriol had given her were for the center of the second row, and she was close enough to have a good view of the pianist himself. He wore a look of intense concentration, tempered by something akin to religious exaltation, as though there were something spiritually enlightening about his music. 

The final piece that Eriol played was something he had composed himself. While Tomoyo had to agree with Colin that it was a beautiful melody, she had a nagging feeling that something was missing in Eriol's execution of the piece. Tomoyo felt ridiculous in critiquing, even in her own head, something she had no real knowledge of, but it truly seemed as though there was something lacking in the last piece. It bothered Tomoyo for the rest of the evening. 

At the end of the concert, after the thunderous waves of applause and the numerous bows Eriol took for the audience, he smiled and thanked everyone for coming. It turned out that the proceeds from the concert would be going to a local charities and a community trust fund. Tomoyo smiled to herself. _That's something new,_ she thought idly as she joined the audience for a final standing ovation. _Eriol's not really selfish, but I never really thought he paid enough attention to the outside world to even think about giving a concert for charity._

"That was lovely," Colin murmured happily at Tomoyo's side. 

"Yes, it definitely was," Tomoyo agreed quietly, letting her gaze follow Eriol across the stage until he disappeared off into the wings. 

The audience began to slowly file out of the theater, but Tomoyo pulled Colin along with her toward the stage. They fought the crowd for a while, but it wasn't far to the stage door. Feeling braver than usual, Tomoyo cautiously pushed her way through the stage door and dragged a slightly-stunned Colin behind her. 

"We can probably catch him before he leaves," Tomoyo told Colin, who could only nod mutely in response. 

"Nice try, young lady," rumbled a deep voice from somewhere over Tomoyo's head. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light backstage, she realized that she was now faced with a young man who probably weighed about three times what she did, all muscle. He was radiating an air of dangerous hostility. "If you want to drop off flowers or a letter or something for Hiiragizawa, that's fine, but he's asked me to politely keep his admirers away this evening." 

"A-admirers?" Tomoyo stammered, stunned by the implication. 

"Flowers, eh?" Colin mused thoughtfully. "I hadn't thought of that one . . ." 

Tomoyo frowned at the young bouncer-type. "Listen here," she began sternly, poking a belligerent finger at the man. "I'm not an 'admirer' or groupie or whatever. I'm a friend of Hiiragizawa-kun, and if you don't take us to him right now, I'm going to be really unhappy with you . . ." 

"And you _don't_ want to make Tomoyo really unhappy," Colin stage-whispered to the bouncer before grinning unrepentantly in response to Tomoyo's glare. 

Tomoyo finally just shook her head. "Just go tell Hiiragizawa-kun that Daidouji-san is here to see him, alright? He'll recognize my name." 

"Dye-doh-gee-son," the burly man replied with a slight nod of his head. "I'll go tell him. Just wait here Miss Dye-doh-gee-son." And without another word, he trotted off into the darkness. 

Silence stretched for many long seconds. 

"Don't say anything," Tomoyo warned Colin gravely. "Not a single word." 

Colin was trying to contain his broad grin without much success. "I wouldn't dream of it, Miss Dye-doh-gee-son . . ." 

While not normally a violent person, Tomoyo momentarily contemplated taking a swipe at the blonde boy, but paused when she noticed the suddenly star-struck expression on his face. She turned and followed the path of his gaze to find Eriol, sans tuxedo jacket and cummerbund, bow-tie askew, staring at her in astonishment. "Miss Dye-doh-gee-son?" he echoed faintly. 

Tomoyo rolled her eyes skyward as Colin burst into gales of laughter. 

By the time Eriol had led his 'admirers' backstage to the practice room he had taken over, Colin had regained his composure and Tomoyo had managed to explain their encounter with the burly bouncer while keeping a straight face. 

"I'm very sorry about that," Eriol apologized. "Last time I had a concert a couple of fans followed me home, so this time I got George to keep folks away." Eriol grinned and finished untying his bow-tie. "He's not actually as stupid as he looks, or sounds." 

"Miss Dye-doh-gee-son?" Tomoyo prompted incredulously. 

"Actually, he just did that to watch your expression. When he found me, he asked me to apologize for him. George's exact words were: 'Please tell Daidouji-san that I'm sorry for giving such a lovely lady a difficult time.'" 

Colin snickered. 

"As usual," Tomoyo proclaimed with a lofty toss of her hair, "You surround yourself with the mentally deficient, Hiiragizawa-kun." 

Eriol grinned impishly at her, his hair slightly tousled from his wrestling match with the bow-tie. "I'll be sure to tell Nakuru and Spinel that," he agreed pleasantly. Then he turned his attention to Colin, giving the slender boy a cursory glance. "So is this the friend you brought to the concert, Daidouji-san?" he asked politely. 

"Yes, it is," Tomoyo replied. "Hiiragizawa-kun, I'd like you to meet Colin Severn, my not-date for the evening. Colin, this is my old classmate, Hiiragizawa Eriol. I told Colin I'd introduce the two of you." 

Eriol raised a slender eyebrow at the 'not-date' comment, but didn't ask. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he said to Colin. 

Colin beamed. "No, the pleasure's all mine, I assure you." Colin's smile was infectious, and Eriol soon returned it. "I'm a big fan," Colin admitted. "Tomoyo didn't have to do much convincing to get me to escort her to your concert." 

"That's nice to hear," Eriol commented drily. "I'd hate to have caused you to waste an evening." He absently tugged on his collar, finally unbuttoning the top two buttons. "What did you think of the concert?" he asked Colin, his eyes drifting from Tomoyo to Colin and then back again. 

Colin began to gush, describing in detail just how much he enjoyed himself this evening, extolling the virtues of Eriol's musical selections, and practically swooning over Eriol's skill with the piano. Eriol met Tomoyo's gaze over the top of Colin's head and rolled his eyes slightly, a faint smile on his lips. Tomoyo smiled sweetly back at him, as if to say, _Hey, you brought this upon yourself._

Tomoyo let Colin babble for a few minutes, then decided to take pity on Eriol and rescue him. "We should probably get going, Colin," she suggested mildly. "My father wanted be back by midnight, and you promised to take me home." 

Colin sighed mournfully. "You're right, of course," Colin agreed. He flashed Eriol a brilliant and charming smile, the kind that made his green eyes practically light up. "It really was wonderful meeting you, Hiiragizawa," he said, holding out his hand. 

Eriol nodded and shook Colin's hand. "And it's always nice meeting any friend of Daidouji-san's," he replied with a small smile. Beneath the smiling facade, Tomoyo could tell he was tired, and she suddenly felt bad about taking up so much of his time. 

"And thanks again for the tickets, Hiiragizawa-kun," Tomoyo told him. "We both enjoyed your music." She began to push the dreamily smiling Colin toward the exit. Then she paused, and walked back to Eriol. "But you're looking exhausted, Hiiragizawa-kun," she told him seriously. She absently re-folded his collar and straightened his ruffled hair. "Go get some sleep, ne?" 

Eriol gave her a slow, sweet smile. "As you wish, Daidouji-san," he replied, his blue eyes darker than usual. "And thank you." 

Tomoyo darted off after Colin, not quite sure what exactly Eriol had been thanking her for. 

"I think you're my new best friend," Colin told her later as they walked towards Tomoyo's house. "There's no way I would ever have met Hiiragizawa Eriol without you." 

"I think you're obsessed," Tomoyo commented. 

"Yep," Colin agreed cheerfully. 

Tomoyo chuckled. "And a shameless flirt, as well," she added. 

Colin sighed mournfully. "Was I that obvious?" 

"Yep," Tomoyo said, mimicking Colin's earlier assent. 

Colin drooped. "Well, there go all my attempts at subtlety," he said. Then he gave Tomoyo a hopeful glance. "I don't suppose you could put in a good word for me with Hiiragizawa, could you? Or at least find out if I have a chance with him?" Colin sighed, a melancholy expression on his face. "I don't even know if Hiiragizawa _likes_ boys. He's never dated _anyone_, of either sex, as far as the gossip mill is concerned." 

Tomoyo wondered how Eriol had kept his relationship with Mizuki Kaho a secret for so long. 

"But enough about me," Colin said, changing the subject. "You've helped me out, so is there anything I can do to help you with your own romantic entanglements?" 

"I don't have any romantic entanglements," Tomoyo declared stiffly. 

"Really?" Colin nudged Tomoyo gently in the arm. "What about that girl you mentioned back in Japan?" 

"Sakura?" At Colin's nod, Tomoyo sighed and shook her head. "She's not a romantic entanglement, Colin," she said firmly. "Sakura-chan has a boyfriend, and they're very happy together." Tomoyo closed her eyes and voiced the words she'd used as a mantra over the last few years. "And besides, her happiness is my happiness . . ." 

"Well, that's complete bullshit," Colin said, "But if that's the way you want to have it, then go ahead. I don't want to meddle _too_ much." 

"Good choice," Tomoyo muttered darkly. 

They approached the front door to Tomoyo's building and Colin placed a gentle hand on her arm, making her pause before she pulled open the door. "Just be sure you don't always put others before yourself, Tomoyo. Self-sacrifice is all well and good, but it's an awfully lonely way to live one's life." He placed a gentle kiss upon her forehead, then walked off into the night. 

For a moment, all Tomoyo could do was stare at Colin's retreating back. Finally she shook herself out of her reverie and headed inside. Once back in her father's apartment, she faced a rather volatile situation again. 

"Two boys in one week!" Tasha caroled gleefully. 

"Who _was_ that boy!" Hiroshi demanded, his face red with anger. 

"Was that your first kiss, Tomoyo-chan?" Tasha asked, her eyes eager. "Spill the beans, hon!" 

"And why did he _kiss_ you, Tomoyo?!" Hiroshi roared. 

"What?!" squeaked Tomoyo in astonishment. 

"Your father was spying on you and your young man via the surveillance camera at the front door, dear," Tasha explained calmly, winking at Tomoyo. 

"If I remember correctly," Hiroshi added, glancing at Tasha, "You were watching right along next to me, love . . ." 

"Oh, god . . ." Tomoyo moaned, burying her face in her hand. _This is completely and utterly embarrassing,_ she thought miserably. 

"So why don't you tell us about what happened this evening, Tomoyo-chan?" Tasha suggested mildly. 

With a defeated sigh, Tomoyo sat Tasha and her father down on the couch and tried to explain the situation. 

"So he's gay?" Tasha asked Tomoyo once the dark-haired girl had laid out the scenario. Tasha sounded a bit disappointed. 

"Yeah, pretty much," Tomoyo agreed. "He didn't actually come out and say it or anything, but he was flirting pretty openly with Hiiragizawa-kun." 

"But he kissed you!" Hiroshi protested, still holding onto the last of his over-protective-father-type-anger. 

"On the forehead," Tomoyo reminded him. "Father, Colin doesn't like girls in _that_ way. You don't need to worry." 

"But if he doesn't like girls," Hiroshi countered logically, "Then why did he kiss you? Are you sure his whole gay-thing wasn't some sort of act to get close to you?" 

Tasha began to laugh at her lover. 

Tomoyo rolled her eyes. "Father, he spent the whole time before, during, and after the concert telling me how wonderful Hiiragizawa Eriol was. I honestly _don't_ think it was an act." 

"That Severn boy talked about Hiiragizawa the _whole_ time?" Hiroshi repeated skeptically. 

"Yeah," Tomoyo said with another roll of her eyes. "I really like Colin, and he's a good friend and all, but I got pretty tired of hearing about Hiiragizawa-kun." 

"That sounds kind of boring, actually," Tasha commented between chuckles. Even Hiroshi was grinning now. 

"You have no idea," Tomoyo murmured before excusing herself and heading off to bed.   
  


  
"I don't believe you," Spinel said flatly. 

"I'm telling the truth!" Nakuru insisted. She was seated in the kitchen, working on the remnants of the chocolate torte Eriol had made the day before. 

"So you think the Master has a thing for the Daidouji girl?" Spinel asked, obviously skeptical. 

"Hey, you weren't there," Nakuru explained after swallowing another mouthful of dark chocolate. "He was practically babbling about her. You know how much I respect our esteemed creator and all, but I got pretty tired of hearing about Tomoyo-chan." 

"That sounds kind of boring, actually," Spinel commented blandly. 

"You have no idea," Nakuru muttered before shoving the last bite of cake into her mouth. "I'm going to bed," she declared. "Go talk to Eriol yourself, if you don't believe me. Then once he starts talking about Tomoyo-chan, you can try to shut him up again." And then she stomped off to bed, leaving her dirty plate and fork on the kitchen table. 

"Pig," Spinel grumbled before dumping the dishes into the sink and fluttering off in search of Eriol. 

Fortunately, Eriol was easy to find. He was nestled in his favorite armchair, eyes closed, dress shirt and hair once more rumpled. "Master?" Spinel called quietly. "Are you awake?" 

"Of course, Spinel," Eriol replied, not opening his eyes. 

"Oh, good," Spinel said then settled down onto Eriol's lap. 

"I suppose you're here to find out whether I've got 'a thing for Tomoyo-chan,' aren't you?" Eriol asked calmly. 

"Well, the thought crossed my mind," Spinel admitted. 

"Nakuru talks too much," Eriol said with a quiet sigh. 

"I'll agree with you on that one," Spinel said, watching Eriol's face in the faint light of the sitting room. 

"I'll admit that I _did_ talk a little too much about Daidouji-san tonight," Eriol said. "It was nice seeing her again. She looked truly lovely this evening. I haven't seen her in anything but her school uniform for a very long time, and tonight she wore this enchanting dress, a pale, spring green. It had all these airy layers of chiffon that floated around her, and she had her hair up." Eriol sighed softly. "That girl has the most beautiful neck I've ever seen, slim and pale and . . ." 

"Yeah, you've got it bad," Spinel told him. 

Eriol snorted. "Hardly. Just because I happen to notice a beautiful girl doesn't mean I'm about to go chasing her around the schoolyard. I'm not a celibate monk, Spinel. I'm allowed to have impure thoughts once and a while, even if I don't intend to follow up on them." 

"If you say so, Master," Spinel said, though he didn't sound as though he really believed the boy. 

"I may be hundreds of years old," Eriol continued, "But I'm in a teenage body with a full complement of the requisite hormones." 

"Whatever," Spinel said dismissively. He didn't really understand humans' fascination with the opposite sex, but if Eriol wanted to obsess over Daidouji, it was fine with him. He was rather fond of the girl himself. 

"At least it looks like Daidouji-san has made a friend or five at school," Eriol added cheerily. "Believe it or not, she's hooked up with those boys Nakuru always chases around." 

Spinel chuckled. 

"She brought one of them to the concert tonight," Eriol said, his voice neutral. 

"Ah, I see where _this_ is going," Spinel said knowingly. 

"He seemed like a nice boy," Eriol said. He paused and then continued. "Colin Severn. I'll have to remember to do a check on him to make sure he'll be nice to her." 

"You aren't her father, you know," Spinel noted. "You ought to let her pick her own boyfriend. And besides, how do you know she even likes him? Shouldn't you check with her before you go about doing a background check on the boy?" 

"She likes him," Eriol assured the little creature. "I saw the way she was looking at him. I can tell these sorts of things." 

"I hate to say it, oh wise master," Spinel said wryly, "But neither you nor Clow were terribly good with other people's interpersonal relationships, and you're even worse about your own." 

"You're not helping, Spinel," Eriol commented. 

"Of course not," Spinel said simply. "But neither are you." With a stretch, the tiny cat-like creature leapt from Eriol's lap into the air. "I think I'm going to join Nakuru. I'm pretty tired of listening to you wallow in self-pity." 

"Sorry I'm not entertaining enough this evening," Eriol said tartly. 

Spinel sniffed and fluttered off down the hallway. 

For the moment, Eriol was left alone with his thoughts, which were inevitably dragged back to the subject of a certain dark-eyed girl. Oh, how he wished he'd been able to get rid of that Severn boy and spend some time with Tomoyo. He'd had no idea she was that pretty until she'd shown up backstage in a dress. But it wasn't just the dress, he reminded himself. It was the way she carried herself, the way the translucent layers of her green dress had brought out the luminous quality of her skin. It was the way her dark, glossy hair contrasted with her pale, perfect face. It was the faint hint of floral soap and subtle perfume that followed her like a sweet-scented cloud. It was the way her eyes had met his, the way she'd seemed to _understand_ . . . 

"Damn," he commented to the empty room.   
  


  
Author's Notes: 

Muahahaha! I finished another part! Yay for me! 

*ahem* Anyway, I'm quite pleased with this section, despite my introduction of *pause for dramatic music* Original Characters *pause for more dramatic music*. I'm generally not one for Original Characters (either mine or those of other authors), but I broke my own rules here and created the resident Bishounen of Clef Academy: Justin, Ben, Bertie, Sin, and the charming Colin. *sighs* Hey, I like pretty boys. So sue me.   
  


Anyway, I _will_ go ahead and start work on the next section, but it'll probably be a while. I'm slow, as you all know. Please don't hurt me if it takes a long time for me to finish the next part. But I will be continuing along with the current storyline. There'll be lots of delicious sexual tension between Eriol, Tomoyo and Colin (the little minx that he is). I like sexual tension. It's fun to write. And I think Eriol and Tomoyo work particularly well with that sort of thing, since in my mind, their still waters run pretty damn deep. Just a brief warning, I suspect that as the chapters progress, they'll gradually become racier and racier. Already we've had quick views of Tomoyo as the object of lust (Justin and Ben's), a decidedly gay Colin, and a wonderfully hormonal Eriol. *cackles* Expect more of the same in the future, 'cause eventually we'll have to answer the age-old question:   
  


When will our mis-matched lovers GET A FRIGGIN' _CLUE_?!!?!?!   
  



	4. Canon

**~~ A Cappella ~~**

**A Card Captor Sakura Fanfiction by Kit**   
  


All characters portrayed here are the property of CLAMP, Kodansha, a bunch of other Japanese media companies, and a certain Canadian dubbing company that will heretofore go unnamed. I don't claim to own these characters, but the situations I put them in belong to me. I would rather this wasn't posted anywhere without my permission (right now it can probably be found on the CCSFWML groups site, the CCSFWML website, and fanfiction.net), so email me with questions. Don't steal. I bite.   
  


Quick Note: You'll notice that in this chapter, Nakuru is sometimes associated with male pronouns, and sometimes with female ones. This is because different people perceive Nakuru in different ways. When the story is being told from Tomoyo's point of view, Nakuru is a 'she,' but when the story is being told from Eriol's point of view, Nakuru is a 'he.' I hope I haven't thoroughly confused anyone yet, 'cause it'll be this way until I finish the story, unless Tomoyo and Nakuru manage to convince Eriol and Spinel that Nakuru counts as a girl. ^_^;   
  


Part Four -- Canon   
  


**canon** -- _n. _-- _ a contrapuntal musical composition in two or more voice parts in which the melody is imitated exactly and completely by the successive voices though not always at the same pitch._   
  


"Colin's had the hots for that Hiiragizawa boy for years now," Sin explained to Tomoyo on Monday before math class. "It's gotten to the point where the mere mention of the guy's name will send him into a swoon." 

"I always thought it was kind of cute," Bertie defended. "He's generally so well-composed about things that it was nice to see him flustered once and a while." 

"Well he was definitely flustered on Friday night," Tomoyo told the boys. "And I definitely thought it was kind of cute." 

"I _am_ right here, you know," Colin commented, from his seat two rows behind Tomoyo. 

"We know," chorused Bertie and Sin. Tomoyo giggled faintly but Ben didn't bother to stifle his laughter. Even Justin unbent enough to look amused. 

"If you don't approve of our conversation topic," Tomoyo began primly, "You can always leave. We can discuss you just as well behind your back." 

Justin snickered. 

Colin looked faintly wounded. "What did I do to deserve such treatment from my friends?" 

"Well, I _could_ mention all the times you teased Bertie about his crush on Sin," Ben noted clinically. "Or maybe I should remind you of how often you tormented Justin by siccing Akizuki on him. Or perhaps I might note that your absolute _favorite_ source of amusement tends to be yours truly . . ." 

"He didn't laugh at you in general, Ben," Sin reminded him with a sly smile toward Colin. "He just thought it was funny that you couldn't get a date with any girl (aside from Akizuki, I assume) if your life depended on it." 

"Thanks for reminding me," Ben said with a roll of his eyes. Tomoyo smiled. It had taken Ben longest of all the boys to warm up to her, since he was the shyest, and he still seemed to have a bit of a crush on her. But once he'd stopped blushing at the mere sight of her, he'd turned out to have a wry sense of humor that rivaled Colin's own. 

"It's alright, Ben," Tomoyo said sweetly, patting his red curls as though he were a dog. "I'm sure there are lots of girls out there who'd jump at the chance to go out with you." 

"How about you?" Ben suggested hopefully. 

Tomoyo paused thoughtfully, then repeated, "Well, I'm sure there are _lots_ of other girls out there who'd jump at the chance to go out with you." 

Ben sighed and hung his head dejectedly. 

"Don't worry, Ben," Justin said with a smirk. "Aside from our very own nauseatingly sweet lovebirds here . . ." He waved vaguely in Sin and Bertie's direction. ". . . You're in good company. We're all Dateless Wonders." 

Colin sniffed disdainfully. "Not for long, if I have anything to say about it." 

Justin raised an eyebrow. "Does this mean you've got a new angle on your Hiiragizawa hunt? You're not just going to gaze adoringly at him from a distance?" 

"For your information," Colin began stiffly, "Now that Tomoyo's introduced me, I should have a much easier time trying to bring him down." 

"He's not a deer, you know," Bertie commented. "Maybe you ought to try _talking_ to the boy before you break out the tranquilizer gun . . ." 

"But that would take all the fun out of it, Bertie," Sin said with a wicked smile. "I've spent months looking forward to the day when we see Colin come striding down the hall with Hiiragizawa slung over his shoulder, trussed up like a Christmas turkey." 

There was a brief silence, then Ben blinked a few times. "Okay, that was a disturbing mental image . . ." 

"Did someone make it 'Pick On Colin Day' when I wasn't looking?" Colin asked plaintively. 

"No, but it could be 'Just Desserts Day,'" Justin said. "You're always the one bugging _us_ about _our_ social lives." He glanced at Ben and then added, "Or lack thereof." 

"Hey!" Ben protested. 

Tomoyo smiled gently at Colin, who was settling in for a good sulk. "Oh, don't pout, Colin," she told him. "If you're a good boy, I'll be sure to mention your name to Hiiragizawa in Arts class." 

Colin perked up. "That would be simply lovely of you," he declared. He smiled beatifically at the other boys. "Now you see why I like this girl?" He blew a kiss at Tomoyo. "How did we ever get along without her?" 

Tomoyo blushed faintly at all the attention, but felt a warm glow of contentment deep in the pit of her stomach. She'd only known these boys for a couple weeks now, but it had done wonders for her self-esteem. Though it was obvious that Colin had initially brought her into the group for the purpose of introducing him to Eriol, it was just as obvious that all five of them were now very fond of her. The boys had invited her to join them regularly for lunch break, and it was now the highlight of her day. Even the tortuous singing lessons with Mr. Phillips in the afternoon didn't seem quite as miserable now that she had lunches with the boys to sustain her. 

Once the teacher finally arrived, Tomoyo and the boys fell silent and math class proceeded as usual. It was the one class, aside from Arts, that Tomoyo truly excelled at. She had never appreciated her math skills back in Japan, but now, at Clef, she was two years ahead of most students her age. She was grateful for the fact, since it was what allowed her to be in the same class as the boys, most of whom were older than Tomoyo. 

After math came Arts, and Mr. Phillips. The thought of singing no longer threw Tomoyo into a panic, as it had originally had last week. Perhaps she'd adjusted to it, or perhaps she could now sing without automatically associating it with her mother's funeral. Then again, it could have been that Mr. Phillips' class hadn't involved much real singing yet. Tomoyo had done more work demonstrating than anyone in the class, and even she'd only been running through exercises and scales. 

"Now that you all have the basics of vocal training," Mr. Phillips told the class, "We're going to begin some individual work. I'll be calling you over to the piano one by one and we'll determine your range, and I'll correct breathing technique and sound production. While I'm working with individuals, I want the rest of you to be practicing breathing exercises and those arpeggios we were working on last week." 

Eriol, seated at the piano, gave Tomoyo a _look_ from behind the music director. Tomoyo flashed him a smile in return. _Poor guy,_ she thought. _He's going to be stuck listening to the warblings of the assorted incompetents in the class._

By the time Mr. Phillips had worked his way through the rest of the class and called Tomoyo over to Eriol and the piano, Tomoyo was thoroughly bored by the basic exercises she'd been repeating over and over. _I never thought I'd be so willing to sing in front of someone else,_ she thought with relief as she walked over to stand next to the piano. 

"Now Miss Daidouji," the director began in a kindly voice, "We both know that this class is far too basic to have any sort of benefit for someone with your talent and training. I wasn't aware of just how skilled you were until you began helping me demonstrate for the class. So aside from giving you the old news that you're a top-notch soprano with a surprisingly vibrant range, I would like to ask if you want to do a special project for me." 

Tomoyo gave her teacher a look of polite interest. She wasn't sure she liked where this was going. "What sort of project, Mr. Phillips?" she asked hesitantly. 

"You aren't in need of any extra credit, but I'll offer you a generous amount if you'll sing in the benefit concert coming up in a little over a month." He reached out and patted Tomoyo's hand, which was trembling slightly. "I can tell that there's something holding you back here, and I won't pry, but sometimes it's best to face your fears instead of running away from them, whether it's stage fright or something else. Think it over, Miss Daidouji. I'm going back to work with the rest of the class. Give me your answer tomorrow, if you can." He turned and headed back to make order of the chaos that had overtaken the rest of the students. 

"I think you should do it," Eriol commented quietly. 

Tomoyo started; she'd forgotten that he was there. She gave him a suspicious look. "Is this _your_ doing again?" 

Eriol waved his hands in front of him. "Nope, not my fault. You weren't careful enough to hide your talent from Mr. Phillips. I'm afraid he's going to bully you into a concert despite your best intentions, whether it's the one coming up, or some other one far into the future." 

With a sigh, Tomoyo leaned up against the black-lacquered side of the piano. "You're probably right," she admitted. Then she gave Eriol a piteous glance. "Why me?" she asked plaintively. 

Eriol gave a half-smile. "Was that a rhetorical question, or were you fishing for compliments?" 

Tomoyo sighed again, enjoying her wallow in self-pity. It was much more satisfying with Eriol there to sympathize. "Maybe I'll just have to do Mr. Phillips' little concert," she mused after a while. 

"That's the spirit," Eriol said with a grin. "I can help you practice, if you like," he offered in a deliberately off-hand manner. "Despite all the demonstration you've been doing in class here, I suspect your voice is a little out of shape. I'm not much of a vocalist myself, but I can certainly help you with the piano accompaniment." 

_Hmm, that might not be _too_ bad,_ Tomoyo thought. _I think Mr. Phillips was right about one thing, at least. I need to face this sooner or later, and I might as well do it sooner and get a little extra credit._

Eriol was watching her intently, and Tomoyo had a sudden flash of insight. "You've been bullied into the concert as well, haven't you?" 

"Guilty as charged," Eriol admitted with a decidedly unrepentant grin. "And since misery loves company, I figured you might as well join me. I think it could be fun, too." 

Tomoyo wasn't sure exactly what he thought could be 'fun,' whether it was the idea of her singing in a concert, or the prospect of joining her for practice sessions. _Either way_, she thought, warming to the idea, _It could be interesting._

"I think you've got a deal, Hiiragizawa-kun," Tomoyo told him with a smile. 

For a moment, Eriol actually seemed _surprised_, but he regained his composure quickly and returned her friendly grin. "Excellent. Are you going to go tell Mr. Phillips?" 

Tomoyo glanced over to where the music director was calling out orders to the other students, trying to get them to line up according to vocal range. "Hmm, not until tomorrow," Tomoyo decided. "I'll let him stew until the very last moment." 

"Now, _that's_ the girl I remember from Tomoeda," Eriol said impishly, his grin widening.   
  
  
  


"Are you free this afternoon?" Eriol asked Tomoyo after class, appearing from nowhere next to her locker. 

Tomoyo gave him a wary glance. "Maybe," she said carefully. 

"She's free," Colin caroled from behind Tomoyo. 

Tomoyo glanced behind her to find an innocently beaming Colin and a smirking Ben. "Colin? I thought you said you wanted me to come with you to . . ." 

"Nope, I changed my mind," Colin said cheerily. He leaned forward to murmur into Tomoyo's ear, "Ice cream can wait. I want you to go with Hiiragizawa and scope him out for me, okay?" 

Tomoyo rolled her eyes and whispered back, "You're obsessed, Colin." 

Ben snickered. He wasn't close enough to be able to hear what they were saying, but the gist was obvious enough. "You two are completely transparent, you know," he commented. 

"Shut up, Ben," Colin told him absently. 

With a weary roll of her eyes, Tomoyo turned back to Eriol. "Okay, sure, I'm free. What did you have in mind?" 

"Practice," Eriol said. "For the concert. My house is fairly close by, and I've still got that piano in the music room." He grinned. "And Nakuru wanted me to invite you over again anyway." 

Both Colin and Ben paled somewhat at the mention of Eriol's housemate, but Tomoyo chuckled. "Well, if Nakuru-san offers to feed me as well as she did last time, then I'll certainly take you up on your offer, if you're sure I'm not imposing." 

"No imposition at all," Eriol assured her. He glanced at the boys lurking behind her. "If you want, you can bring your friends over . . ." he added, a little hesitantly. 

Colin and Ben backed up away from Tomoyo and Eriol. "That's . . . okay," Ben said quickly. 

"Give Akizuki our regards," Colin added brightly, "But we're busy this afternoon. Right, Ben?" 

Ben nodded vigorously. 

"In fact, we ought to get going," Colin continued. "It was nice seeing you again, Hiiragizawa," he told Eriol with a polite little bob of his head. Tomoyo was astonished to see that he was keeping his blushes to a minimum. 

"And remember to ask him about me," Colin whispered fiercely to Tomoyo. 

"I will," Tomoyo promised, stifling a smile. 

Then Ben and Colin bolted for the relative safety of the boy's bathroom. 

"They both seem like nice boys," Eriol commented neutrally. 

"They are," Tomoyo agreed. She pulled a few more books out of her locker, crammed them into her backpack, then slung it over her shoulder. "I'm ready to leave if you are, Hiiragizawa-kun." 

"I'm ready," Eriol said brightly, obviously glad to be leaving school. "Shall we?" he said with a quirky little raise of an eyebrow, gallantly offering her his arm. 

"Let's," Tomoyo agreed as she took Eriol's arm and they walked out into the amber warmth of the late-afternoon sunshine.   
  


  
"Tomoyo-chaaaaan!" 

Eriol winced as a tall figure came dashing around the corner of the house, running at top speed, long hair flying out behind. _How on earth did Nakuru know she was coming over? _he wondered vaguely as he watched Nakuru almost bowl Tomoyo over. 

"Nakuru-san," Tomoyo gasped. She was having difficulty catching her breath around the rib-crunching hug Nakuru was giving her. "It's nice to see you again." 

Nakuru gave Tomoyo a little breathing room and turned to fix Eriol with a reproachful stare. "You didn't tell me you were bringing Tomoyo-chan home." 

"It was a last minute kind of arrangement," Eriol explained evasively. He wasn't sure Nakuru would buy his story, but hopefully he wouldn't be put on the spot. 

Nakuru simply shrugged and took Tomoyo by the hand. "Let's go inside and I'll find something scrumptious to eat for us!" Tomoyo was promptly dragged toward the side-door. 

"She's here to practice for an upcoming concert with me," Eriol told Nakuru pointedly as he trailed along behind the tower and towed. 

"Whatever," Nakuru replied with an airy wave of one slim hand. "I'm going to feed the girl first, and you can't stop me. She's just skin and bones and hair, Eriol. And you want to make her sing for you without food? Ha! Just try and stop me!" 

Eriol paused in the doorway and watched Nakuru and Tomoyo disappear into the kitchen. He banged his head against the wooden frame a couple of times. "Maybe this was a bad idea," he muttered. 

"I think you're probably right," Spinel commented from his patch of sunlight on the floor. The tiny creature preferred to spend his afternoons basking in the light that pooled across the soft, scuffed rug in the side entranceway. "You certainly forgot to take Nakuru into account here. There's no way you'll be able to seduce Tomoyo with that enthusiast stuffing her full of cookies." 

"Seduce?!" Eriol didn't blush, but his voice cracked boyishly on the last syllable. 

"Master, I think Tomoyo's about the only one who hasn't yet figured out what you're up to," Spinel stated as he stretched languorously, flexing his claws into the rug. 

"I'm not trying to seduce her," Eriol managed to say with a straight face. 

Spinel snorted in apparent disbelief. 

"She's here to practice with me. That's all." Eriol sighed and banged his head against the doorframe again. "Besides, she already seems pretty happy with that Colin boy. Do you really think that little of me that you suppose I'd try to seduce her under such circumstances?" 

"Nice try, Master," Spinel said drily. "Maybe if you repeat that often enough you'll be able to convince yourself." 

Eriol paused then gave Spinel a hard look. "I trust you won't share your opinions with anyone else?" 

Spinel fluttered up from the floor, his wings catching the glint of the sunlight. "I don't need to," he said with a sniff. He settled lightly on Eriol's shoulder, his tail wrapping around the boy's neck to steady himself. "Nakuru's already planning your wedding." 

Eriol groaned. 

"But don't worry," Spinel added, patting Eriol reassuringly on the cheek with one velvet-soft paw. "Nakuru knows not to tell Tomoyo about his plans. Nakuru's a bit shrewder than you often give him credit for." 

"I'm surrounded by meddling amateurs," Eriol grumbled as he headed down the hallway. 

"Hey, you designed us to be professional meddlers, Master," Spinel quipped as they entered the kitchen. 

"Come here, Suppi-chan!" ordered Nakuru from his position before the vast, granite-topped counter. There was flour everywhere, and Nakuru was busy rolling a ball of some sort of dough around on the white-dusted counter. "I need you to taste my cookie dough!" 

Spinel, being the moderately intelligent magical creature that he was, immediately retreated to the light fixture on the ceiling. "No," he said shortly. 

"Aww, come on, Suppi-chan!" Nakuru wheedled, giving the cat-like creature a winning smile. "It's good. You'll like it." 

"No," repeated Spinel from his safe perch. "And don't call me 'Suppi-chan,'" he added firmly. 

"But Suppi-chan!" Nakuru wailed cutely. 

"I said 'no' and I meant 'no,'" Spinel declared. 

Eriol watched his bickering companions for a moment more, then joined Tomoyo at the kitchen table. "Dare I ask what Nakuru's decided to bake?" he asked the dark-haired girl. 

"Some kind of cookies," Tomoyo replied. "Or at least that's what she said. I'm not so sure. I think she might just have made up something to feed to Spinel-san." 

Eriol chuckled softly. "You could be right about that. Nakuru takes an infernal delight in cramming sweets into poor Spinel. I probably should have stopped it years ago, but it's something to watch on rainy days." 

Tomoyo paused to brush flour off the front of her school uniform. "Poor Spinel," she echoed, her voice rich with genuine sympathy. "Then again, if those peach tarts she made the last time I was here were any indication of her baking skills, then maybe 'Poor Spinel' is an overstatement." 

"Nakuru's generally quite competent in the kitchen. Generally." Eriol eyed Nakuru, who was still trying to coax Spinel down from the light fixture. "Daidouji-san, if you wouldn't mind waiting on your snack, we might want to take this opportunity to slip off to the music room. Nakuru's pretty worked up right now and I have a feeling we'll be pestered all afternoon if we don't leave soon." 

Tomoyo stood up and brushed a little more flour off of her skirt. "That's fine with me, Hiiragizawa-kun. I'm not actually hungry at all. Lunch wasn't all _that_ long ago, you know." 

"Very well," Eriol said, leading the way out of the kitchen. "Let's make our escape while we still can." 

Soon, the echoing voices of Nakuru and Spinel faded out, and the welcome silence of the old house filled the hallways. The music room was on the other side of the house, far away from the chaos of the kitchen. When Eriol had first bought the house, he'd installed soundproofing on the walls and ceiling of the music room, so once he and Tomoyo were safely inside, he was able to shut out the last of the argument in the kitchen. 

The music room was rather larger than was standard, since it had at one point been a small ballroom. Huge bay windows overlooked the walled garden, the sills lined with deep green ivy. The windows faced south-west, allowing a little of the afternoon sunshine to spill in and gild the inlaid wooden floor. Aside from the rich wood of the floor, the room was furnished in shades of dark green and gold. 

"How lovely," Tomoyo murmured, her heart in her eyes as she gazed at the room. It practically echoed with Eriol's love of music. 

"I'm glad you like it," Eriol replied softly, his eyes on Tomoyo as she walked across the room to the window, peering out into the pale-green of the garden below. 

To the right of the windows sat a beautiful old pedal harp, the column covered in ornate carvings. Tomoyo paused and ran her fingers along the frame of the harp. She gave Eriol a curious glance. "You play the harp too?" 

"Not very well," Eriol admitted, "But it seemed like something a music room should have." 

Tomoyo laughed and then joined Eriol by the piano. They quickly ran through a few basic exercises to warm up Tomoyo's vocal cords and Eriol's fingers, then launched into an array of songs they'd both learned back in Tomoeda. There was a kind of simple joy in the creation of music, something that both Eriol and Tomoyo could plainly understand. By the third song, Tomoyo's eyes had drifted closed, her pale face raised in song. Eriol's eyes were open, but he was paying only scant attention to the keyboard. Instead, his gaze was fixed on Tomoyo's face, lifted to catch the last of the afternoon sunlight. 

_I think this was a bad idea_, Eriol repeated to himself. Eriol had hoped that his sudden attraction to Tomoyo after the concert had been a brief, passing thing, but now as he watched her sing, he knew he'd been wrong. 

"That was . . . wonderful," Tomoyo murmured as the song trailed off, her eyes opening to fix on Eriol's. Her smile was like the rising sun. 

Eriol's smile in return was somewhat strained. "Aren't you glad I bullied you into this?" he asked impishly. 

"Do you even have to ask, Hiiragizawa-kun?" Tomoyo replied, her eyes twinkling. She leaned against the side of the piano, her smile relaxed. "You already knew that I'd agree when you asked me to come over, and that I would enjoy myself immensely." 

"Well, yes, I suppose I did," Eriol admitted. 

"I don't enjoy being manipulated very much," Tomoyo added archly. 

"I would never try to manipulate you, Daidouji-san," Eriol lied innocently. 

"How come I don't believe you?" Tomoyo asked rhetorically. 

"I have no idea," Eriol responded lightly. 

There was a sudden banging on the closed door, startling both Tomoyo and Eriol. 

"Tomoyo-chaaaan!" came Nakuru's plea from behind the door. 

Eriol sighed. "I think that means that our peace and quiet is over for the afternoon. Perhaps we'd better go see what Nakuru's finally produced for you to eat." 

Tomoyo smiled slightly. "And you may want to go check up on Spinel-san to make sure Nakuru hasn't done anything permanent to him." 

Eriol winced and headed for the door. 

As it turned out, Nakuru _hadn't _done anything to Spinel. When Nakuru led Eriol and Tomoyo back to the kitchen, they found Spinel still firmly ensconced on the out-of-reach light fixture. He still refused to come down, despite all of Nakuru's pleading. 

Nakuru sat down at the table and pouted. "I even set a place for Suppi-chan," he complained, gesturing vaguely toward the four place settings at the table, each accompanied by a serving of golden-brown sugar cookies. 

"I'm sure he'll eat some cookies later," Tomoyo said to Nakuru, giving a comforting pat on his hand. 

"Oh, well," Nakuru said. "At least I can still get Tomoyo-chan to eat my cookies!" 

"They _are_ pretty tasty," Eriol commented as he nibbled on one of his own cookies. 

"Simply amazing, Nakuru-san," Tomoyo confirmed after tasting a cookie for herself. 

Nakuru beamed. 

"I'm still not coming down," Spinel announced, spoiling Nakuru's good mood. 

Nakuru frowned up at Spinel. "Get down here now!" 

"No," Spinel repeated for the twentieth time. 

"Then I'll just have to go get my water gun and _make_ you come down," Nakuru replied cheerily. 

With a disgruntled little snarl, Spinel fluttered from his perch and made a dash for the doorway. Nakuru wasn't _quite_ quick enough to catch him before he made good his escape. "Come back here, Suppi-chan!" he called, brandishing a large wooden spoon coated with leftover cookie dough. "I still want you to taste my cookies!" Then Nakuru charged off after the rapidly retreating Spinel. 

"Looks like Spinel-san got away," Tomoyo noted. 

"For a little while, at least," Eriol corrected, listening to the diminishing thuds of Nakuru's footsteps. "If Nakuru decides to bring a water gun into play, then Spinel is going to be in trouble." 

Tomoyo chuckled. She nibbled daintily on another cookie while Eriol frantically tried to think of a safe topic for the conversation. _Hell, I guess I might as well just come about it head-on,_ he finally decided. _Now how can I politely broach the subject of Colin Severn?_

"I wanted to thank you again for meeting Colin after your concert the other night," Tomoyo said suddenly. "He was really looking forward to talking with you. He may have come off a bit giddy, but he's really much less silly than he sometimes seems." Tomoyo paused and shot Eriol a casual glance. "What did you think of him?" 

_I guess I didn't have to bring Severn up_, Eriol thought miserably. _She did _that _on her own._

"He seemed like a nice boy," Eriol said in a voice so noncommittal it was almost impossibly to classify. 

"You already said that," Tomoyo pointed out gently. 

"Oh, did I?" Eriol smiled vaguely. "I don't think I spent enough time with him to get a very good idea of his character." 

Tomoyo nodded thoughtfully, and fell silent once more. 

"He seems to be a good friend for you," Eriol continued, deciding to fish for a little more information, "As do those other boys. I think it's interesting that the first friends you made here are Nakuru's little harem." 

Tomoyo chuckled. "It's weird, but it makes sense. Nakuru's the common thread among the five of them, aside from their dashing good looks, of course." 

"Of course," Eriol agreed cheerfully. 

_I'll show those simpering pretty boys who's got 'dashing good looks,'_ Eriol thought darkly, managing to keep his irritation out of his face. 

"You appear to get along _particularly_ well with Colin Severn, though," Eriol added, deciding to plug right along with this topic, no matter how painful. "He seems to have zoned in on you from the beginning." 

Tomoyo's smile turned secretive. "You have no idea, Hiiragizawa-kun," she murmured mysteriously. 

Inwardly, Eriol fumed. 

Tomoyo glanced over at the antique clock that hung on the kitchen wall. "I'm afraid it's time for me to head home," she said, genuine regret coloring her voice. "My father starts getting antsy if I'm not home by nightfall." 

"I'll walk you home," Eriol said quickly, rising from his chair. "I don't want you wandering around out there when it's getting dark." 

"Why, Hiiragizawa-kun!" Tomoyo exclaimed with mock surprise. "What a gentlemanly offer for you to make. I'm truly touched." 

"Of course you are," Eriol agreed with a merry smile. 

Nakuru and Spinel were no where to be found, so Tomoyo left instructions with Eriol that he was supposed to tell them 'goodbye' for her. Eriol promised to do so, and the two teenagers started towards Tomoyo's apartment. 

"Do you have any idea what Mr. Phillips might want me to sing for his concert?" Tomoyo asked after a minute or so of silence. 

Eriol shrugged. "He may have something specific in mind, or he may just want you to pick something suitable." 

"Ah," Tomoyo said with a nod. There was a pause. "I find myself liking Mr. Phillips more and more," she said. 

"He's a good man," Eriol agreed. "I've known him for years. He even taught Kaho and her husband when they were in school here." 

"I didn't know they went to Clef," Tomoyo commented carefully. She was watching Eriol out of the corner of her eye, as though trying to figure out how far she could push him on a sore subject. 

"Clef Academy is a very old school, much older than Kaho or her husband," Eriol said, somewhat stiffly. "Kaho wasn't a terribly good student, despite her intelligence. Gregory Reed, however, was a star pupil, perhaps due to the fact that his father was one of the deans." His voice sounded hollow, even to his own ears. Eriol suppressed a sigh. 

"It's amazing how much coincidence is involved in our lives, isn't it, Hiiragizawa-kun?" Tomoyo's voice was gentle, her gaze sympathetic. "Clef drew Kaho and her husband together, and then you came, and now me. Does the great Clow Reed believe in fate?" 

Eriol gave Tomoyo a long glance. She only smiled at him. _Does she know how close she is to the truth?_ he wondered, startled by her degree of perception. _Or is she working from instinct here?_

"Clow Reed believed in fate," Eriol replied, "But Hiiragizawa Eriol may be another story." 

Tomoyo raised a slender eyebrow, giving him a questioning gaze. 

With a sigh, Eriol decided that he might as well try explaining things to Tomoyo. If nothing else, she'd probably believe him. After all, Tomoyo had filmed Sakura engaged in much stranger activities than mere fortune telling. "Would it surprise you if I told you that Clow Reed began his career as a fortune teller?" 

"At this point," Tomoyo said, "Very little surprises me." 

"Well, Clow did," Eriol continued. "At first he was nothing more than the usual sort of astrologer, piecing together bits and pieces of the future and selling them to wealthy benefactors. After a few years, and a few alterations in his methods, Clow realized that his horoscopes were far more accurate than anyone else's. Clow also went about his auguries in a rather improvisational manner, adapting his style as he went. While his contemporaries were babbling about the planets and staring at tea leaves until they went cross-eyed, Clow was reading weather patterns in the flame of a lantern, peering into the future through the precise arrangements of fallen gingko nuts." 

"And then he became a magician?" Tomoyo finished. 

Eriol nodded. This wasn't nearly as difficult as he'd feared. "Clow Reed's interests changed, but he never truly left behind his humble beginnings with prophecy. Until the day he died, Clow continued to cast auguries." Eriol paused to watch Tomoyo's reaction. She didn't really look startled enough. "You already know this, don't you?" he asked suspiciously. 

Tomoyo had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. "I went to talk to Mizuki-sensei and she explained a little of it to me." 

_Great_, Eriol thought. _So Kaho's been gossiping about me and my prophecies too._ "Did she tell you about how Clow's prophecy and my more recent works relate to her?" 

Tomoyo nodded. "She said that she was the 'Voice of Silence,' or something like that." She paused, glancing over at Eriol. "She also said that your prophecies said that you and she weren't destined to be together . . ." 

Eriol gritted his teeth. "That's true," he said evenly. "Which is why where Clow Reed trusted his horoscopes more than the newspaper, Hiiragizawa Eriol is a bit more skeptical. I don't understand why Kaho could have abandoned me over some ridiculous dream." 

"The way she explained it to me," Tomoyo began, choosing her words carefully, "It wasn't because of the prophecy. She fell in love with Gregory Reed." 

Eriol saw Tomoyo send another measuring glance his way. It was as though she were trying to gauge just how far she could question him. As irritating as it was for him, Eriol couldn't help but admire her for trying to pry his secrets out into the light. "Of course she did, but I don't think she would have left me so quickly if she hadn't already doubted our relationship." Eriol paused then admitted, "I loved her, and I still do." 

The look Tomoyo gave him was full of sympathy, empathy even. Eriol knew that of all the people he could have confided in, Tomoyo came the closest to understanding what he was going through. "I know you do," Tomoyo said quietly, simply. In an impulsive gesture, she reached out and slid Eriol's hand into hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I really do know," she echoed. 

"And you still love Sakura-san, don't you?" Eriol prompted gently. 

Tomoyo's chuckle was bitter, without any trace of joy. "Do you even need to ask, Hiiragizawa-kun?" 

"No, I suppose not," Eriol admitted. "I guess we both aren't the kind to get over love easily, are we?" 

"'Get over' it?" Tomoyo chuckled again. "What makes you think that love is something we can 'get over?'" 

Eriol shrugged and gave Tomoyo's hand a returning squeeze. "Other people seem to carry on with their lives after loving someone. Why not us?" 

Tomoyo's apartment building loomed over them, and it was only as they walked into the golden circle of the floodlights' range that they realized they were at their destination. Tomoyo gave Eriol a long considering look, as though musing over what he'd said. "Yes," she murmured thoughtfully. "Why _not_ us?" A small, sweet smile appeared, which she aimed with deadly accuracy at Eriol. "Thank you for walking me home, Hiiragizawa-kun." 

"You're welcome," Eriol replied automatically, still caught up in the soft curve of her lips. 

"And it was lovely spending time with you," Tomoyo added. 

"Indeed it was," Eriol agreed amiably, gradually regaining his composure. "I don't suppose I could convince you to come over tomorrow afternoon. For another practice session, of course." 

"That would be . . . nice," Tomoyo decided. "And by then, I will have talked to Mr. Phillips, and I'll have something to sing." 

"Wonderful," Eriol murmured absently, not really listening anymore. With a faint smile, he decided that it would be best if he left soon with as much of his dignity intact as was possible. "Well, until tomorrow then, Daidouji-san," he said, bending over her still-captive hand in a courtly manner. "Sleep well," he added, pressing his lips to the back of her smooth, white hand. 

Tomoyo flushed a little, and looked slightly confused, but seemed to accept Eriol's overly familiar farewell. "Goodbye, Hiiragizawa-kun," she replied before darting inside her building. 

Eriol waited by the front doors for a few more minutes, gazing at nothing. _That could have gone worse,_ he decided. _She could have screamed and ran, I suppose. That would have been suitably embarrassing._ He glanced over at the security camera, and on impulse blew a kiss at the lens. 

_Good night, Tomoyo,_ he thought, his expression bemused as he walked away. _Sweet dreams._   
  


  
"Another one?!" Hiroshi was definitely feeling testy when his only daughter returned that evening. 

"Actually, I believe that was the first one again," Tasha corrected cheerfully. "Way to go, Tomoyo-chan!" 

Tomoyo sighed. "Don't you guys have anything better to do?" she asked mournfully. 

Hiroshi and Tasha exchanged a long look, then turned back to Tomoyo, wearing identical, innocent smiles. "Nope!" they chorused. 

Tomoyo wanted to bang her head against a wall. 

"So which one are you going out with?" Tasha asked. "I mean, the one tonight only kissed your hand, but the one from the other night is gay, if what you say is true." 

"Colin, the one from the other night, is definitely gay," Tomoyo confirmed. "Or at least, he's definitely chasing after Eriol, the one from tonight." 

Tasha stared. "My goodness. That's quite a love triangle, isn't it, love?" She gave her boyfriend a wink. 

Hiroshi grumbled something inarticulate about 'idiotic teenage boys' and his 'poor, innocent daughter.' 

"Eriol's just helping me practice for an upcoming concert," Tomoyo tried to explain. "Mr. Phillips wants me to sing and I'll probably agree." 

Hiroshi perked up a little, and Tasha looked slightly disappointed. 

"Colin Severn is a _friend_," Tomoyo continued sternly. "And Hiiragizawa Eriol is also a _friend_. Nothing more. So don't get too excited when Hiiragizawa-kun walks me home in the evening, since I'll be going over to his house to practice a lot." 

Tasha threw Hiroshi a triumphant little smile. "Told you so," she said smugly. 

"Excuse me?" Tomoyo asked, feeling like she'd missed an important part of the conversation here. 

"Never mind, Tasha," Hiroshi told his girlfriend firmly. "We can talk about it later." 

"But you still owe me ten pounds, my dear," Tasha countered, a beatific smile on her lovely face. 

_I don't think I want to know exactly what's going on here,_ Tomoyo decided, making her escape into her bedroom while her father was busy arguing with his flatmate. _I get the impression that Tasha just won a bet, and that _I_ was the subject of the bet._

Tomoyo closed her door behind her and tossed her backpack onto the chair next to her bed. _Besides,_ she thought as she flopped down onto her bed, staring at the ceiling, _Father should know better than to make bets against Tasha. She always wins._

Homework was a welcome distraction, and Tomoyo concentrated on equations and essays for the next hour or so. It was an easy way to avoid thinking about a thoroughly enjoyable, thoroughly confusing afternoon and evening. But when she'd finally finished editing her essay on the failings of the British rule in colonial India, she found that her thoughts turned inevitably back to the subjects of Colin Severn and Hiiragizawa Eriol. 

In a final attempt to clear her mind, Tomoyo changed into one of her plain nightgowns and sat down to brush out her hair. It was a nightly ritual that usually calmed her, and cleared her mind of the troubles of the day. But now, as the hairbrush slid noiselessly through her long hair, Tomoyo realized that she couldn't get Colin and Eriol out of her head. 

_I did _try_ to see if Eriol was at all interested in Colin,_ Tomoyo thought wearily. _But Eriol never said anything concrete about Colin. He just kept mentioning how lucky I was to have such a nice friend._ Tomoyo began to braid her hair back, to prevent nighttime tangles. 

_And then we talked about Kaho._ Tomoyo sighed and tied off the end of the braid. _I can't believe I was so insensitive to have pulled the conversation towards Mizuki-sensei. Even if he was able to even the playing field by bringing up Sakura-chan, Eriol must think I'm horrible._

_Or maybe not,_ whispered a sly, quiet part of her mind. Eriol certainly hadn't _seemed_ upset when he'd left her at the front of her apartment building. And he'd kissed her hand . . . 

"This is ridiculous," Tomoyo decided, aloud. "Worrying isn't going to help." 

Tomoyo set down the hairbrush and went to bed. She managed to keep thoughts of Colin and Eriol from intruding upon her sleep. For the first time in as long as she could remember, Tomoyo didn't dream about Sakura.   
  


  
"I . . . tried," Tomoyo reported to Colin the next afternoon before math class. 

Colin blinked. "What do you mean, you 'tried?'" 

"I tried bringing you up in conversation, when I was over at Eriol's house, but he didn't have much to say." Tomoyo watched Colin's expression fall, so she quickly added, "But that doesn't necessarily mean anything. We were mostly talking about music." 

Colin sighed. "I think I'm doomed," he decided. "I've been watching Hiiragizawa for years and now he only knows me as your little friend." His expression was comically melancholy. 

Tomoyo gave Colin a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Colin. I'll work on him this afternoon." 

"You're going over again?" the blonde boy asked, surprised. 

"Yeah, Eriol's going to help me practice for an upcoming concert," Tomoyo explained. 

Colin gave her a long, suspicious look. 

"That's all it is!" Tomoyo assured him. "He's just an old friend from Japan, Colin. You couldn't think that I would try to steal your man, right?" 

"No, I guess not," Colin agreed quietly. 

"Not on purpose, at least," Bertie added, with a suggestive wiggle of his heavy eyebrows. 

"Shut up, Bertie," Sin told him sharply. 

"Hmph," said Bertie, unhappy to have his ideas shot down so quickly. 

Meanwhile, Justin was watching Tomoyo's expression shift from surprised, to hurt, to confused, to thoughtful. He exchanged a meaningful glance with Ben, who nodded at him. They definitely saw what was happening, even if Colin and Tomoyo didn't. Justin had a bad feeling about things, and wished there was a way he could prevent the fireworks that were sure to ensue. Yet while Justin was fairly inept when it came to his own relationships, and while he still had his eye on the lovely Tomoyo, he knew better than to interfere. He didn't want to get singed in the explosion.   
  


  
"Gershwin?" Eriol's face split into a grin, as he ran through a few scales on his piano. He and Tomoyo were in his music room once again, getting ready to practice. A week had passed since their first practice session, and it was becoming a comfortable routine. Outside, it was almost dark, even though sunset was still a couple hours away, and the morning's rain had faded to a dreary sort of fog that shrouded the garden like coils of silk. 

"That's what Mr. Phillips said," Tomoyo repeated. "I can pick anything I like, but the concert's going to be a George Gershwin festival, so that's who I have to work with. I don't suppose you have any ideas?" Tomoyo sat down on the piano bench next to Eriol. "I'll be the first to admit that I don't know much about the whole genre." 

Eriol watched Tomoyo run her fingers lightly across the keys, her fingernails clicking against the ivory. "I've got a few ideas, at least," he suggested. "If you want to wait a moment, I can run and get some music for you." 

"That sounds wonderful, Hiiragizawa-kun," Tomoyo said with a genuine smile. 

Eriol walked over to the far side of the music room, where a row of cabinets sat. He sorted through some of the drawers, eventually pulling a few handfuls of sheet music out. He brought his selections back to the piano and settled back onto the piano bench. Eriol was almost painfully aware of Tomoyo's nearness, but he did his best to ignore the way he could smell her soap, the way he could feel heat radiating from her side where her arm occasionally brushed against his . . . 

Eriol cleared his throat and began to run through a few songs, playing the opening bars and singing a verse or two from each. Tomoyo sat and listened, an attentive expression on her face. Despite his self-consciousness, Eriol did a fine job introducing Tomoyo to the works of one of the great modern composers of America. 

"Did any of them suit you, Daidouji-san?" Eriol finally asked once he'd played samples from about ten songs. 

"This one," Tomoyo replied promptly, pulling a few sheets of music and settling them on top of the pile. 

"'Someone To Watch Over Me?'" Eriol read, his mouth curving into a smile. _How appropriate_, he thought. 

"I like it," Tomoyo said. "It's sort of mournful, but hopeful too, and I think it will work with my range. Can we try it?" 

"Of course," Eriol agreed before playing the first few bars. 

Tomoyo's voice was quite different from the type usually associated with 'Someone To Watch Over Me.' Generally women with low, rich voices, like Ella Fitzgerald, were cast to sing the song, but as Tomoyo had predicted, it suited her just fine. Age had improved Tomoyo's range, allowing her the depth necessary to sing the lower parts, while retaining the breathy strength to rise above the higher parts. Eriol was surprised at the speed she picked up the music, and before their practice session was over, she was already experimenting with the different nuances of the lyrics. 

"You chose well," Eriol commented as he and Tomoyo lingered over iced tea in the kitchen. Once more, Spinel and Nakuru was missing. 

"Of course," Tomoyo replied with a smug smile. 

"I'm not sure I would have had you pinned as an Ella Fitzgerald imitator," Eriol teased. "Billie Holiday, maybe, but not Ella Fitzgerald." 

Tomoyo laughed. "I don't think I could pull off Billie Holiday, even if my life depended on it. And anyway, who says I have to imitate Ella Fitzgerald? Why can't I do my own Daidouji Tomoyo version of the song?" 

"No reason at all," Eriol said quickly. "And anyway, you've got a prettier voice than Billie Holiday. Prettier than Ella Fitzgerald's too, I think." 

"Flatterer," Tomoyo accused, blushing slightly as she smiled at Eriol. 

"But true," Eriol replied honestly. 

They fell silent for a couple minutes, stirring nervously at their tea. Tomoyo added another teaspoon of sugar; Eriol squeezed a second wedge of lemon into his glass. Eriol was trying to figure out a way to bring up the subject of Colin without seeming too pushy. Luck was with him and she brought up the subject without prompting. 

"I was just curious," Tomoyo began casually, "But what do you think of Colin?" 

Eriol was _slightly_ taken aback by the question, but decided to answer as politely as he could. "I like him, I suppose. He seems to be very fond of you, and that shows that there's at least _something_ good in his character, right?" 

Tomoyo waved off his indirect compliment and tried to rephrase her question. "Yes, but I was wondering what you _really_ thought of him. What do you think of him as Colin, not as my friend?" 

Eriol paled slightly. _Well, here goes. I guess this means that I'm in the role of supportive friend here as she admits she's in love with the boy. There's nothing left but to approve of him for her . . ._

"In case you're wondering, Daidouji-san," Eriol began as gently as he could manage, "I approve of Colin Severn." 

Tomoyo paused and simply stared at Eriol. "What?" 

"I approve of your choice," Eriol said, a little unhappy that she was making him repeat himself. 

"What?!" Tomoyo looked thoroughly confused now. 

"What I mean," Eriol began crossly, "Is that if you want to go out with Colin, it's fine with me. He seems like a good person, and he seems to like you very much. Okay?" 

Tomoyo burst into peals of silvery laughter. 

"What did I say?" Eriol demanded, irritated that she could find amusement in his angst. 

"You thought that Colin and I were . . ." Tomoyo gasped out, between giggles. "Oh, my goodness," she said before collapsing in laughter once more. 

Eriol frowned and waited for Tomoyo to regain her composure. 

"I wasn't asking whether you _approved_, Hiiragizawa-kun," Tomoyo explained, her cheeks rosy with mirth. "I'm not interested in Colin _that_ way, and he's not interested in me." 

Eriol looked offended. "It certainly _looked_ that way . . ." 

"He's _gay_," Tomoyo said pointedly. "He's been trying to get me to ask you out for him." 

Eriol stared. 

Tomoyo began to laugh again. 

"It was a perfectly reasonable mistake," Eriol insisted after a moment. His lips curled into a smile. "I could have sworn you two were, well, you know . . ." He made a vague, suggestive sort of gesture with his hand. 

"Don't be silly," Tomoyo replied. She sipped at her tea. "Colin is much more interested in _you_ than he ever will be in me. And as for myself, I'm still . . . healing." It was a gentle way of saying she was still longing for Sakura. 

Eriol sighed. "I guess I was being a little silly," he admitted. 

"So I guess I can tell Colin that you aren't interested?" Tomoyo asked. 

Eriol winced. "That might be a good idea, if you can do it gently. I don't want to cause any trouble between you two. If you need to prove to him that I'm straight, you can tell him about Kaho, if you like." Then he gave her a wicked smile. With the light glinting off his glasses, he looked positively fey. "Or I can come along and flirt with you or something. Would a kiss convince him, do you suppose?" 

Tomoyo didn't blush, but Eriol didn't think she knew whether he was teasing or not. He smiled inwardly. _Maybe things aren't going as badly as I thought,_ he decided, relaxing back into his chair. 

"I may take you up on your offer if Colin doesn't believe me," Tomoyo replied, her voice playful. She absently stirred the remnants of her iced tea then reached back to pull a sealed envelope out of her backpack. "Would you mind if I read my mail quickly, Hiiragizawa-kun? I got a letter from Sakura-chan this morning but I haven't had the time to read it yet." 

"Oh, go ahead," Eriol said with a wave of his hand. "I'm curious to hear what's going on back in Tomoeda, myself." 

"Thanks," Tomoyo said before carefully tearing open the envelope. 

Eriol watched her with an slightly goofy smile on his face. He knew he was being ridiculous, but he couldn't keep from smiling. Now that he _knew_ that Tomoyo and Colin were nothing more than good friends, he felt almost liberated. _I'd never really considered actually _pursuing_ Tomoyo, but now that I think about it, I don't see why not. She's lonely, I'm lonely._ Eriol carefully ignored the part of his mind that kept reminding him that he was still pining after Kaho. 

Then Tomoyo paled. She was usually almost deathly pale, but now she looked as though she was going to faint. 

"Daidouji-san?" Eriol leaned forward and touched her arm gently. "Are you alright?" 

Tomoyo's hands shook slightly, Sakura's letter rattling in her grasp. "I'm fine," Tomoyo whispered. 

Eriol could tell that she _wasn't_ fine, that she'd read something in the letter that had shaken her to the core. Normally, Eriol wouldn't have pried, but he was worried. "What did Sakura-san have to say?" he asked carefully. 

Tomoyo glanced back up at Eriol, her eyes huge and dark and full of pain. "Sakura-chan and Li-kun are coming here to visit. In a week." 

Eriol stared back at her, expressionless. _Well,_ he thought miserably, _There go all my plans for a nice quiet week with Tomoyo . . ._   
  


  
End Notes:   
  


See, I _have_ been working! And yes, I'm a horrible, nasty, mean person to leave everyone with an ending like this. Just imagine all the havoc that little Sakura-chan is going to cause in the next chapter. See, just now, Eriol has sort of decided that now that he doesn't have to worry about competition from Colin, he may just try and snag Tomoyo-chan. *shrugs* Hey, Eriol's still hung up on Kaho, but he seems to think that Tomoyo would make for a nice rebound relationship. Anyway, so just when Eriol thinks everything is starting to look up . . . WHAM! Sakura-chan's coming. And Eriol _knows_ how Tomoyo feels about Sakura, and he _knows_ that when Sakura comes to visit, Tomoyo's going to slip into 'Sakura-chaaaaan'-mode. *sighs* Poor boy. He never gets any breaks.   
  


Well the next chapter is _sort_ of plotted out, and I will work on it dutifully. *nods and smiles* Yeah, so encouragement is welcome, just don't ask when the next chapter's coming out. I'll be more likely to throw a temper tantrum than give you a real answer. *cackles* In the next section, look forward to some serious angsting from both Eriol and Tomoyo, some uncharacteristically perceptive remarks from Syaoran, Sakura's usual obliviousness, and some rather blatant bullying from Nakuru and Spinel. Oh, and the Bishounen Boys will be there as well, providing snide remarks and disparaging comments from the peanut gallery. And I think Colin's going to be in full sulking mode for the whole chapter. Poor little darling. *grins maniacally*   
  
  
  


Revisions -- May 8th, 2001 

I went through and fixed up a few coherency problems, along with a couple bizarre consistency issues (like the whole Tasha-as-wife/girlfriend problem). I also added the musical definitions at the beginnings of each chapter, so everyone can see how they relate to the story. (They do. I promise.) But there's not really any new material here. The next chapter should be out in a few days, so look for that. Sorry about this not-really-update. *grins*   
  



	5. Pianissimo

**~~ A Cappella ~~**

**A Card Captor Sakura Fanfiction by Kit**   
  


All characters portrayed here are the property of CLAMP, Kodansha, a bunch of other Japanese media companies, and a certain Canadian dubbing company that will heretofore go unnamed. I don't claim to own these characters, but the situations I put them in belong to me. I would rather this wasn't posted anywhere without my permission (right now it can probably be found on the CCSFWML groups site, the CCSFWML website, and fanfiction.net), so email me with questions. Don't steal. I bite.   
  


Part Five -- Pianissimo   
  


**pianissimo** -- _adv or adj_ -- _very softly -- used as a direction in music_   
  


Tomoyo didn't _quite_ run out of the house, but she certainly didn't linger. Eriol quietly saw her to the door, made sure she was headed safely toward home, then returned inside to ponder the latest development. 

_Sakura's coming,_ Eriol thought, torn between sympathy for Tomoyo and irrational jealousy. _And when Sakura shows up, all the healing that Tomoyo has been through will be for naught. She's going to fall apart again._ Eriol wished he could take credit for Tomoyo's increasingly positive frame of mind, but he knew it was probably more Colin's and the other boys' doing than his own. Over the past few weeks, Tomoyo had settled into a healthy sort of pattern. She had friends, she had family, and now, she had her music back. Eriol knew how withdrawn she'd grown after moving to England. Merely watching Tomoyo's gradual return to vitality had been, in his mind, a true joy. 

_How will she deal with Sakura? _he wondered wearily. _Is Tomoyo strong enough to see Sakura with Syaoran?_ Eriol hoped she was, but he wasn't completely sure. 

"Mail!" caroled Nakuru as he came skipping in through the side door. "Mail, mail, mail!" Nakuru twirled cheerily and waved a bundle of envelopes in the air. With a balletic leap, Nakuru danced the rest of the way into the kitchen and tossed the mail onto the table. "Stuff for me, stuff for you," he proclaimed in a sing-song voice. As usual, Nakuru appropriated all of the colorful junk mail and pushed the bills and personal letters toward Eriol. 

"Great," muttered Eriol as he half-heartedly sorted through his pile. "Bill . . . bill . . . bill . . . what the hell . . ?" Eriol peered closely at a small pink envelope. "Oh, good grief," he grumbled, tearing open the letter. 

"Ooooh!" trilled Nakuru as he peered at the pink stationary over Eriol's shoulder. "Sakura-chan's coming for a visit!" Then, without letting Eriol respond, Nakuru danced off down the hall singing, "Sakura-chan is cooooming! Sakura-chan is cooooming!" Eriol assumed he was going to tell Spinel. 

Indeed, Eriol had also received a letter from Sakura announcing her impending visit. The letter was a bit tardier than was probably polite, since Sakura seemed to frequently forget how long it took for mail to travel from Japan to England. Sakura's letter essentially outlined her trip and hinted that while she and Syaoran-kun were ready and willing to stay at a hotel for the duration of their visit, they would be eternally grateful if they could borrow rooms in Eriol's house. Apparently, Tomoyo had described Eriol's house as 'ridiculously luxurious' and 'positively cavernous' to Sakura. 

Eriol knew enough about the mail system to realize that it would probably be more reliable to simply phone Sakura to tell her she could stay at his house for a week. So with a weary sigh, Eriol slipped Sakura's letter into his pocket and went to clear the iced tea and glasses from the table. 

Eriol waited until later that evening to call Sakura, so that he could catch her in the morning -- Japanese time -- before she left for school. After dialing and waiting for a couple of rings, Kinomoto Fujitaka picked up the phone. 

In the past, Eriol hadn't had too much contact with the other half of Clow's reincarnation, and even over thousands of miles of phone cable, it was strange. Eriol always seemed to get the impression that Fujitaka knew much more than he let on, and that a surprisingly shrewd mind lurked beneath his mild exterior. Eriol hurried through the niceties, and finally got to speak with Sakura. 

"Eriol-kun?!" Sakura sounded distinctly startled. 

"Good morning, Sakura-san," Eriol replied evenly. "I just received your letter about your visit." 

"Only just now?" There was a brief pause. "I always forget how long it takes for mail to get to England." 

"Don't worry about it," Eriol continued. "And it will be no trouble at all to put you and Syaoran-kun up in a couple rooms at my house. I have plenty of room." 

Sakura's sigh of relief was audible. "Oh, thank you so much, Eriol-kun. The way Tomoyo-chan described your house, well, it sounded like you had space to spare, but I didn't want to assume . . ." 

"Assume away, Sakura-san," Eriol assured her cheerily. "So when does your flight come in? I could try and get a car to come meet you if you like." 

"It arrives on Saturday afternoon, but don't worry about meeting us. We can just take a cab. I still have your address." 

"That sounds fine," Eriol said. "The address is the same, and we aren't that far from Heathrow, so the taxi shouldn't be too expensive." 

Sakura's bubbling good spirits were tangible, even over the phone line. "Great!" There was a quick pause. "I . . . don't suppose you've talked to Tomoyo-chan recently, have you?" Now she was hesitant. 

"As a matter of fact, I have," Eriol replied smoothly. "She was over here this afternoon." 

Sakura paused again. "Oh," she said, clearly surprised. "That sounds nice. I was just going to ask you if she seemed any more . . . cheerful, to you. Her letters over the past couple months have been getting longer and longer, but she's saying less and less. I know she's trying not to worry me, but I can tell that something's wrong . . ." 

_Oh, yeah, Sakura-san,_ Eriol thought wearily. _Something's definitely wrong, but I _was_ working on fixing it._ Eriol knew the thought was a little unworthy, but he thought it just the same. 

"Don't worry about it, Sakura-san," Eriol assured Sakura as best he could. "She's been a bit better over the past couple weeks." 

"You've been spending time with her?" Sakura sounded a little surprised again. 

"I'm helping her practice for an upcoming concert," Eriol explained, hoping Sakura wouldn't catch his ulterior motives in his voice. 

"That's wonderful!" Sakura enthused. 

"But I ought to let you talk to Daidouji-san first before I tell you all the details," Eriol temporized. He wasn't sure he wanted to fully explain the situation over the phone. 

"Oh, that makes sense," Sakura agreed cheerily. "Well, I have to get going or I'll be late for school. Syaoran's already waiting for me outside and I need to go make sure Kero-chan doesn't go out and harass him. I'll see you on Saturday, okay?" 

"Okay, Sakura-san." Eriol smiled at the phone, as though Sakura could sense it. "Have a good day at school." After hanging up, Eriol sighed deeply. Things were getting more and more complicated, and he wasn't sure he felt up to the challenge.   
  


  
Tomoyo stayed home sick the next day. To her credit, she actually _was_ sick, but her cold was much more minor than she let on to her father. 

"Are you sure you'll be alright, Tomoyo-chan?" Hiroshi asked as he and Tasha were heading out the door, Tuesday morning. Hiroshi had promised to go with Tasha into London for her latest audition, and it was unlikely that they'd be back before evening. 

Tomoyo assured her father that her cold wasn't enough to let him wriggle out of his obligation to Tasha, and he finally agreed her. Once Hiroshi and Tasha were gone, Tomoyo slumped back into bed. She was depressed, it was raining, and she had a mild head-cold. It was definitely a good day to spend in bed. 

After tossing and turning in bed for a few minutes, however, Tomoyo realized that she wasn't going to fall back asleep. So she wrapped herself in a soft robe, slipped on fuzzy slippers, and shuffled out to the kitchen in search of food. After nosing through the refrigerator for a while, Tomoyo decided on orange juice and settled down on the couch. She tossed back a couple of decongestant capsules with a swig of juice, then closed her eyes and leaned back into the cushions. 

_The gods must hate me,_ she decided miserably. Yet even through her congested depression, Tomoyo couldn't quite decide whether to be ecstatic that Sakura was coming, or terrified. A part of her resented Sakura's decision to visit. Tomoyo was just settling into a comfortable sort of routine, a routine that revolved around her new school and her new friends. It didn't include Sakura. But Tomoyo knew that she still loved Sakura, and still ached to be so far from her best friend. 

Tomoyo let the day pass in indulgent indolence. She slept a lot, ate a little, and watched bad British soap operas. The rain outside slackened, but she paid little attention to it. 

_Good grief, _she thought to herself, as the credits for the last soap of the afternoon rolled before her glazed eyes, _They're even worse than that drivel they show back in Japan._ Tomoyo slumped deeper into the cushions of the couch and pushed her disheveled hair out of her eyes. 

By now it was late afternoon, and the west-facing windows allowed the sun to slant lazily into the living room. Tomoyo's cold had faded to a minor annoyance, due either to her day of relaxation or the entire carton of orange juice. She was still depressed, but she had settled into a sort of sweet, aching melancholy, which suited her much more than full-blown despair. 

Around four o'clock, the phone rang. After a brief debate, Tomoyo decided to answer it. 

"You . . . weren't in school today, Daidouji-san," Eriol said as a greeting. 

"I have a cold," Tomoyo explained with an expressive little sniffle. 

"Oh," said Eriol. "I see." He paused, and Tomoyo got the impression that he was revising what he was to say to her. Tomoyo smiled to herself. _Did he think I'd just be home moping over Sakura all day?_

"Are you feeling any better?" Eriol asked. 

"Yes, much better, thank you," Tomoyo replied sweetly, with only the faintest hint of her congestion coloring her voice. "I drank an entire half-gallon of orange juice," she added solemnly. 

"Impressive," Eriol responded, just as solemnly. "So are you planning on coming back to school tomorrow?" He laughed briefly. "Your boys were languishing in your absence, you know. Even Colin looked pretty droopy." 

Tomoyo chuckled softly. "Hmm, I'll probably be back by tomorrow. I wouldn't want my boys to languish away to nothing, now would I?" Tomoyo paused, trying to decide how to broach the next subject. "I'm not sure I'll be able to sing by tomorrow, yet," she finally said. Her voice was slightly hoarse. 

Eriol was silent a moment. Then he assured Tomoyo with a gentle, "Don't worry about it, Daidouji-san. Just concentrate on getting better." 

Tomoyo smiled at the phone. She suspected that Eriol would miss her company, but he was too polite to make a scene about it. "I will," Tomoyo agreed. "I'll drink more orange juice." 

"You do that," Eriol ordered, mock-sternly. "And remember, get better quickly because Nakuru and Spinel miss you." _And I miss you too,_ he didn't say. 

Tomoyo understood, though, and continued to smile. Eriol couldn't see her smile, perhaps, but he could hear it in the warmth of her voice. "I'll see you tomorrow, then," Tomoyo finished. She knew he'd understand. He always did. 

"Alright," Eriol returned, then added a gallant, "Sleep well, fair Daidouji-san." 

"You too, Hiiragizawa-kun." 

After hanging up the phone, Tomoyo moved over to the upholstered window seat and gazed out at the setting sun. The sun was low enough in the sky that the brightness had faded to a comfortable amber glow, and Tomoyo opened the window just enough that she could listen to the busy murmurings of the birds outside. A chilly breeze slipped in through the window, and Tomoyo was soon forced to wrap an old, soft blanket around her shoulders. And so it was that Tomoyo, wrapped in golden light and a fuzzy wool blanket, was lulled to sleep by the birdsong of spring.   
  


  
In Math class the next morning, the boys were politely aloof, to Tomoyo's amusement. Justin was patently ignoring her, Ben kept shooting her faint, tremulous smiles, and Sin and Bertie were deliberately absorbed in each other. Colin alternated between staring at Tomoyo and trying to pretend he wasn't staring at her. If Tomoyo hadn't already been so exhausted from her cold and her emotional ups and downs, she would have laughed out loud. 

All five boys continued to give her space until the end of class, when Colin seemed to lose what remained of his patience. 

"Alright, Tomoyo," Colin said quickly as the classroom emptied. "What's the dish?" 

"Colin!" Bertie was slightly horrified. "Be nice, or you'll upset her." 

"I think it's too late for that," Justin muttered, eyeing Tomoyo's slight frown. 

"Hey, I've kept quiet as long as I could," Colin complained. "We're her friends, and therefore are entitled to know what's bothering her. Tomoyo, oh blossom of Clef Academy, won't you please share your troubles with your esteemed companions so that we may ease your mind?" He fluttered his eyelashes at Tomoyo, giving her a crooked, appealing smile. 

"Blossom of Clef Academy?" Tomoyo wasn't sure whether he was making fun of her or trying to pay her a compliment. 

"I just made it up," Colin admitted. "But it's true. We do care about you, and we _know_ that something's wrong. Why don't you just save time, energy and dignity by simply telling us now?" 

Knowing that Colin would harass her mercilessly if she attempted to remain quiet, Tomoyo decided to share. "I told you all about my friend Sakura, back in Japan, right?" There were five nods. "And I told you what a good friend she is, and how much I miss her, yes?" Again, five nods. "Well, she and her boyfriend are coming for a visit this Saturday." 

There was dead silence. 

Tomoyo blushed under all the stares. "Don't look at me like that, please," she said in a small voice. 

Colin blinked. "Sorry, Tomoyo," he apologized. "I was just surprised. I think the others were too. When did you find out about it?" 

"Two days ago, when I was at Eriol's house for practice." Tomoyo carefully collected her books from her desk. 

Ben watched Tomoyo with a slightly unhappy expression on his face. Though she'd never declared it plainly, he had a strong suspicion that Tomoyo was in love with this Sakura girl. Instinctually, he realized that while Tomoyo simply adored Sakura, it would still be painful for Tomoyo to see Sakura around this boyfriend of hers. "How do you feel about it, Tomoyo?" he finally asked, straight out. 

Tomoyo hesitated. "I'm . . . not sure, Ben. I miss her, I really do, but . . ." She trailed off, hugged her books to her chest, then gave Ben a sad smile. "But I don't know how I'll feel when she actually gets here." 

"What does Eriol think about it?" Justin asked suddenly. 

"I . . . I don't know," Tomoyo replied, startled by the question. "He didn't say much when I first got Sakura's letter, and when I talked to him on the phone, he only told me to rest and get over my cold." 

"You talked with him on the phone?!" Colin demanded. 

"Yes, he called to make sure I was alright." 

Colin gave her a slightly suspicious stare. 

"Really!" Tomoyo exclaimed. "He's been very kind to me, with practicing for the concert and everything else." 

"Hmph," said Colin. 

Bertie had an almost dreamy expression on his face. "So your friend Sakura is the romantic complication, right?" He sighed. "I just adore love triangles." From his position standing behind Sin, he leaned forward slightly and rested his chin on top of his boyfriend's head. 

"Love triangles?" Tomoyo raised an eyebrow. "I don't know if it counts as a real love triangle. I mean, Sakura really does have an existing relationship with Syaoran, so that sort of excludes the both of them, right?" 

"Who's Syaoran?" Sin asked curiously. 

"Sakura's boyfriend," Tomoyo answered. 

"Oh, I wasn't talking about the boyfriend," Bertie explained, his freckled face shining with romantic enthusiasm. "I was talking about Sakura and you and Eriol." 

"Shut up, Bertie," Sin hissed frantically, but it was too late. 

"What?!" Colin looked on the verge of hysteria, torn between shock and red-faced outrage. 

"Eriol?" Tomoyo blinked in confusion. "What does he have to do with this? Sakura only likes him as a friend." 

"Whoops." Bertie blushed. "Um, never mind, Tomoyo. I'm just being silly." 

"Damn straight," Justin agreed. "You know how Bertie gets, Tomoyo." Justin knew better than to allow this to escalate into a full-fledged argument, since Colin's presence would undoubtably complicate matters. 

Meanwhile, Sin was whispering in Colin's ear, apparently calming the blonde boy down. Whatever Sin said seemed to work. Colin's expression slowly relaxed, his green eyes shifting from worried to curious. Tomoyo was thoroughly confused, and not sure she really wanted to know what was going on. Maybe it was a boy-thing. 

The five boys, still clustered around Tomoyo, made their way out into the hallway. As usual, they escorted Tomoyo to her Arts class. Normally, Sin and Bertie followed out of good nature, Ben and Justin followed for the chance to subtly flirt with Tomoyo, and Colin followed for the occasional glimpse of Eriol. It was an arrangement that worked out well for all involved, though the group was unusually quiet today. 

After seeing Tomoyo safely to Arts class, they turned to head off to their own classes. Sin paused, and turned back to Tomoyo. 

"You should tell him," he said seriously, his glorious violet eyes solemn. 

Tomoyo was bewildered. "Tell who, what?" 

"Colin," Sin replied. "You need to tell Colin about Eriol." 

"About . . . Hiiragizawa?" Tomoyo stared at Sin. 

Sin sighed patiently. "You need to talk to Colin and tell him that he doesn't stand a chance with Eriol Hiiragizawa." 

"What on earth are you _talking_ about?" Tomoyo asked, attempting to avoid a touchy subject. 

"Don't be coy, Tomoyo," Sin said firmly. "Colin fancies himself in love with Eriol, and Eriol loves another. Don't keep Colin hanging here. He deserves to have his heart broken honestly. It will only get harder with time, if you don't tell him soon." 

_How did Sin manage to find out that Colin won't possibly succeed with Eriol? _Tomoyo wondered, startled by her friend's perceptiveness. _And how did he find out about Kaho, the one who quite obviously still holds Eriol's heart?_ But Tomoyo didn't have the time to question Sin any further; Bertie looped back to grab Sin by the elbow. 

"Come on, Sin," Bertie said hurriedly, dragging Sin off down the hall. "We'll be late for class." 

"Tell him, Tomoyo," Sin called back before he was out of earshot. 

With a gentle shake of her head, Tomoyo walked into her classroom. _I suppose it would make sense to tell Colin myself instead of letting him find out the hard way that Eriol's not interested._ She sighed. _And I suppose the news would be easier coming from a friend. I hope he's not _too_ upset._

Since her mind was already pondering related problems, Tomoyo found herself watching Eriol for most of Arts class. He was, as usual, seated at the piano, accompanying the students as they sang their pieces for Mr. Phillips. As seemed to happen frequently, Eriol's glasses glinted as they caught the light. 

_He looks good in the Clef uniform_, Tomoyo thought inanely. _So many of the other boys here look downright uncomfortable in that tie and jacket. Poor Bertie always looks slightly out of place in his uniform, like a country boy, straight off the farm, stuffed into a suit._

Mr. Phillips was gradually working his way through the singing groups that he'd assembled, and finally it was Tomoyo's turn. She'd been grouped together with another girl, a rich alto, and two boys, both indifferent tenors. The other girl was competent enough, but the boys' voices were beginning to grate on Tomoyo's nerves. Under Mr. Phillips' capable direction, the young quartet worked their way through their lesson pieces. 

After the first few lines, Mr. Phillips turned his attention to the taller of the two tenors. In an attempt to correct the oddly nasal quality of the boy's voice, the choir director began giving him specific advice, leaving the rest of the group to wait patiently. Once more, Tomoyo glanced over at Eriol, waiting along with the rest of them for Mr. Phillips to finish with the tenor. This time, Eriol was already looking at her. His eyes were very blue behind his glasses, and his smile was slow and sweet. 

A shock of _something _passed through Tomoyo. _My goodness,_ she thought bemused. Then Tomoyo, who hadn't blushed over a boy in years, felt her cheeks heat up. _Maybe I've still got that cold,_ she thought mildly, deciding it would be easier to account for her flushed cheeks than to account for the sudden, sharp tang of longing she'd felt for Hiiragizawa Eriol.   
  


  
Instead of the usual music practice with Eriol, Tomoyo went in search of Colin. She'd told Eriol back in Arts class that she couldn't make it to his house that afternoon, and he'd been kind and understanding, not asking for any explanation. He'd certainly heard that her voice was fine back when she was singing in class, but he knew that she still needed more recovery time. 

It turned out that Colin was surprisingly easy to find. It was not quite so easy to get _to _him. 

"He's been hiding in there for the past twenty minutes," Nakuru complained as Tomoyo approached. She was leaning up against the wall outside the boys' bathroom, tapping her foot impatiently. 

"Who has?" Tomoyo asked curiously. 

"Colin, the little hottie," Nakuru said with a lusty sigh. "Justin gave me the slip earlier, and Colin was the only one left at school. I have no idea where the other boys went." 

"I was just looking for Colin, actually," Tomoyo explained, peering at the closed door of the restroom, as though by staring hard enough she could make Colin emerge. "I needed to talk to him." 

Nakuru pouted. "He's getting too darn good at hiding. If he didn't keep peeking out to see if I was still here, I'd suspect he'd snuck out one of those little ventilation windows in the back wall." 

"Why don't you just go inside and get him?" Tomoyo asked. She was surprised that Nakuru would be halted by something as mundane as a gender-specific restroom. 

"It just wouldn't be ladylike!" Nakuru exclaimed, looking slightly horrified. 

"Then it looks like we're in for a long wait," Tomoyo said, leaning against the wall next to Nakuru. "I think he's too stubborn to come out on his own." 

"You're probably right, Tomoyo-chan," Nakuru agreed sorrowfully. "Hey, I can just leave my letter for him with you, right? You'll give it to him when he comes out, won't you? It's awfully important." She reached into the pocket of her uniform and pulled out a small envelope with a name neatly printed on the front. 

"That has Justin's name on it," Tomoyo noted, stifling a smile. 

"Whoops," Nakuru mumbled before fishing out another envelope and handing the second one to Tomoyo. "Sorry, wrong love letter." 

Tomoyo smiled. "Don't worry, Nakuru. I'll give it to Colin and I won't mention that you're also sending your affection to Justin." 

"And Ben and Sin and Bertie," Nakuru added absently, a dreamy expression on her face. "So many pretty boys!" 

"I . . . see," Tomoyo said faintly. 

"And now," Nakuru announced with a flourish, "I'll have the time to go hunt for Justin. I still can't believe he got away so easily . . ." She dashed off down the gradually emptying hallway without a backward glance. 

"Is she really gone?" Colin asked, poking his head out of the bathroom. 

"I think so," Tomoyo told him. "And if we hurry, we can get off school grounds before she spots us." 

"Great idea," Colin agreed before dashing out of the bathroom, grabbing Tomoyo's arm, and hurrying her outside. 

"She seems completely besotted with you," Tomoyo commented with a sly smile, after Colin had finally slowed his breakneck pace. They lingered outside the gates, far enough away that they could bolt for cover if there was any sign of Nakuru. 

"Yeah, me and a half-dozen others," Colin said with a snort. 

Tomoyo laughed and passed him Nakuru's letter. "Nakuru has a big heart. She probably has enough room to love you all together." 

Colin winced. "That's one way to put it, I suppose." He tucked the letter, unopened into his jacket pocket. Glancing at Tomoyo, he asked, "You wanted to talk with me?" 

"Yes, could we walk over to the park?" she asked hesitantly. "It's important, and it could take a while." _And I want plenty of running space when I tell him about Eriol._

"Sure, I don't have to be home for a while," Colin replied. 

The park was about a half-mile away from school, and the warm breeze made the walk pleasant. The 'park' was, in fact, the ruins of an old hillfort that had once protected the town. Now, not much was left aside from the circular mound, with a few clumps of moss-shaded stones marking the site. Around the hillfort, a sparse forest of birch and ash dotted the gentle slope of the surrounding acres. It was a peaceful place, the silence broken only by the occasional chattering of red squirrels and the soothing undertones of the local songbirds. 

"Let's sit up there," Tomoyo suggested, pointing at one of the piles of stone atop the grassy mound. 

Climbing slippery rocks proved quite a task for Tomoyo, who was still wearing her school uniform, complete with cumbersome pleated skirt and nearly-tractionless shoes. Colin wasn't having much better luck. 

"At least it's a nice view," Tomoyo commented once they were settled atop the tallest rock. 

"A nice view of more trees," Colin muttered. "The fort's not high enough to give us a terribly good vantage point." 

"Spoilsport," Tomoyo accused with a playful elbow to his ribs. 

The two sat in companionable silence for several minutes before Colin finally came out and confronted Tomoyo. "This is about Hiiragizawa, isn't it?" 

Tomoyo nodded. "Yes, it is." She fiddled with her skirt, smoothing it over her demurely crossed legs. "You wanted me to talk to him and find out if he could like you." 

Colin's expression was neutral. "I see," he said quietly. 

"Hiiragizawa likes girls, Colin," Tomoyo said in a rush. It wouldn't be good to prolong this conversation. "I talked to him and found out. If you need proof, he gave me permission to tell you about his last relationship, which he doesn't ever discuss with people." 

"He told you all of this?" Colin asked. "Did you tell him about me?" 

"I had to!" Tomoyo exclaimed helplessly. "He got confused about my relationship with you. He thought we were dating, for heaven's sake! I had to give him a reason as to why I was asking all these questions about him." 

"I guess I understand," Colin admitted reluctantly. "But did you really have to tell him I liked him? I mean, this is humiliating enough . . ." 

Tomoyo thought he was hiding his humiliation well. He seemed perfectly composed. "It just came out, Colin. I'm sorry about that." 

Colin sighed and closed his eyes. "So tell me about this girl he used to go with," he requested. "What was she like?" 

"I don't think I should give you her name, but she was someone I knew back in Japan," Tomoyo began. "She was our teacher for a while." 

Colin raised an eyebrow. "Your teacher? Geez, how old is she?" 

"I'm not sure, maybe twenty-eight or thirty or so." Tomoyo chuckled at Colin's startled expression. "She's really nice. All of her students loved her, but perhaps not in quite the same way Hiiragizawa did. Still does, really. He hates talking about her. She ended up marrying someone else." 

"I guess that must have hurt." Colin still looked a little shocked. "But how on earth did she hook up with a college student?" 

"Hiiragizawa's a lot more mature than most college students," Tomoyo explained. "And Kaho's very young for her age." Tomoyo decided that trying to explain about Eriol's previous incarnation as a powerful sorcerer would probably not be very productive. 

"Kaho? Kaho Mizuki?" Colin's eyes almost bugged out of his head. "Hiiragizawa and _Kaho_?! I thought she was his aunt or something." 

"Oops, I didn't mean to mention her name." Tomoyo blushed. "Then again, I guess they were living together for quite a while, so if you've had your eye on Hiiragizawa for years, then you would have known about her." 

"Wow. I mean, she's attractive and all, I suppose, but she's what, a dozen or so years older than he is?" Colin managed to flash Tomoyo a quick, crooked grin. "Does that qualify as pedophilia?" 

"Colin!" Tomoyo was the very picture of shocked dignity. "How could you think such a thing of the boy you declare you've longed for since you first saw him?" 

"Very easily," Colin said cheerfully. "It's even easier now that you've told me I don't have a chance of catching him myself. I find I don't feel quite so loyal to the boy anymore." 

Tomoyo gave Colin a penetrating look. He was joking, certainly, but she could catch a glimpse of the hurt that lay beneath his joviality. She knew it would be a while before he truly came to terms with Eriol's indirect rejection. "Well, please don't judge Kaho too harshly, Colin. You don't know the specifics of their story. There's a lot more that I can't tell you." 

"Of course, Tomoyo," Colin reassured her. "I was just teasing you. You seem so fond of both of them." He paused, a thoughtful look on his face. "Wait a moment, you don't have a crush on Kaho too, do you?" 

Tomoyo stared. 

Colin snickered. "Just kidding." 

Tomoyo rolled her eyes. 

"How about Hiiragizawa?" Colin asked, an impish expression on his face. 

"You're not funny, you know," Tomoyo told him in a lofty tone. 

"Of course I am," Colin said. "That's why you love me so much." 

_And I suppose that's the truth,_ Tomoyo thought with a rush of affection for the boy sitting next to her. She looped her arm around Colin's. "You must be right, Colin," she admitted, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Since I certainly don't approve of your taste in men." 

"Be nice," Colin murmured as he rested his cheek against her hair.   
  


  
Tomoyo didn't resume her afternoon practice sessions with Eriol until Friday. Tomoyo didn't explain her absences, and Eriol didn't ask. Both were too polite to mention anything. 

"They're staying here, aren't they?" Tomoyo asked suddenly after the last note of the song died away. They'd started with her song for the concert, and had slowly been distracted by some of the other Gershwin pieces Eriol had spread out before his piano. 

"Yes, they are," Eriol replied, not bothering to ask who she was talking about. "Sakura-san said that you'd mentioned my spacious house to her in your letters." 

Tomoyo looked appropriately contrite. "Sorry, I didn't know she was planning a visit." 

"It's no problem," Eriol assured her with a wave of his hand. "Really, I'll enjoy having them here. It will give Nakuru some people to boss around other than me and Spinel." 

"Well, if you ever need some peace and quiet, you can send them over to my apartment for a while." Tomoyo smiled faintly. "It might get crowded, but I think we can find room for them." 

Eriol laughed suddenly. "I was just going to offer something similar, Daidouji-san," he admitted. "I was going to invite you over to spend time with them here. If you want to, I can even fix up a spare room for you too, if you wanted to talk with Sakura-san late into the evenings." 

Tomoyo smiled back. "That's a generous offer, Hiiragizawa-kun. I wouldn't want to strain your hospitality, but it's tempting. Maybe I'll stay sometime this weekend?" 

For some reason, this seemed to please Eriol immensely. He beamed back at Tomoyo. "Wonderful," he announced. "It will be like a little reunion with Sakura-san, Li-kun, and the two of us here, won't it?" 

"Of course," Tomoyo murmured, her good humor fading a little. It was difficult maintaining her cheer when discussing Sakura and Syaoran's impending visit. 

Eriol watched her steadily, then stood up. "I think we've practiced enough for this afternoon." He reached out for Tomoyo's hand. "Why don't we go outside and I can show you the garden again. The wisteria's blooming now," he said with an enticing smile. 

Tomoyo hesitated, then took his hand, letting him help her to her feet. His palm was warm and dry, the skin softer than she'd imagined. "That sounds like just what I need, Hiiragizawa-kun." 

Eriol's smile widened and he led her out through the side door of the music room. Once outside, he began chattering about his garden. Tomoyo was once again struck by Eriol's immense horticultural knowledge. As a child in Japan, Tomoyo had kept a small flower patch at home, tucked away among the formal gardens that her mother maintained. As a result, she could tell the difference between a zinnia and a petunia, but not much else. Eriol knew the names, both common and Latin, of every plant in his garden. Bemused, Tomoyo listened as he rattled off the uses for each of the herbs that lined one side of the garden. 

"Here, smell this one," Eriol instructed, handing Tomoyo a small, dark green leaf. 

Tomoyo sniffed eagerly, expecting the kind of sweet aroma she'd grown used to, after being told to smell a number of other plants. Eriol laughed as Tomoyo's face screwed up into an expression of distaste. 

"That smells awful," Tomoyo said, fixing Eriol with an accusing glare. "What on earth is it?" 

"It's pennyroyal," Eriol told her, still grinning impishly. "It's a natural insect repellant." 

"I can see why," Tomoyo said drily. "After one whiff of that, all the bugs would bolt." 

"I don't think it smells all _that_ bad," Eriol said defensively. "It's not as bad as those citronella candles they sell to keep the mosquitos away." 

Tomoyo wrinkled her nose. "I don't know which is worse, actually." 

"Pennyroyal is in the mint family," Eriol added, sounding almost stuffy. 

"Wonderful," Tomoyo said with a roll of her eyes. 

Eriol began to laugh again. 

Finally, after sampling the scents from Eriol's herb garden, he led her around to the other side of the house, where the wisteria covered the wall. Tomoyo caught her breath at the sight. It was just as Eriol had described it -- beyond beautiful. Eriol began to idly explain the pertinent information about the enormous wisteria vines, but Tomoyo wasn't really listening. Her attention was captured and held by the profusion of flower spikes, dangling like ripe grapes from the vine, a glorious blue-lavender. 

"How long will it be like this?" Tomoyo asked breathlessly, interrupting Eriol's explanation. Her eyes were wide with wonder, and she continued to stare. 

"A couple of weeks," Eriol said, his eyes on Tomoyo's face. "Then the flowers fall to the ground and the leaves fill in the spaces. By next week, it will look like the yard here is covered with purple snow from the fallen flowers." Eriol reached out and touched Tomoyo's sleeve, to get her attention. "I'll invite you over again to see it. There'll be other flowers to see as well . . ." 

Tomoyo finally turned back to Eriol, her expression still dreamily content, all thoughts of Sakura and Syaoran absent. "I would like that very much," Tomoyo replied politely, turning the full force of her smile upon Eriol, her eyes shining with enthusiasm. 

Eriol's eyes looked a bit wild for a moment, but he quickly defused the situation. "Well, it's great to have someone to show around. Neither Nakuru nor Spinel seem terribly interested in hearing about my plants." 

"Aww, poor Eriol," Tomoyo said sympathetically, giving Eriol's arm a comforting little pat. "No one pays any attention to him." Her eyes glinted with mischief. 

Eriol looked wounded. "Well, it's true! Everyone takes me for granted. I mean, look at yourself, for example." Eriol grinned and reached out to brush his thumb across her cheek, pushing a few strands of hair to the side. His smile softened. "I had to lure _you_ over here with promises of music, flowers and free cookies." 

Tomoyo suddenly looked unsure of herself. She wasn't used to dealing with Eriol when he was like this, and she wasn't quite sure how to take his mild flirting. His hand, still gently cupping her cheek, was making her nervous. "Hey," Tomoyo replied lightly, "I may be easy, but I'm not cheap." 

Knowing that the moment had slipped away, Eriol pulled his hand back and slipped it into his pocket. "That's certainly true," he quipped. "Nakuru can barely bake sweets fast enough to sustain you." 

Tomoyo giggled and followed Eriol to another part of the walled garden. He led her around his perennial beds and over to a sunny patch of garden planted with small, wispy-looking plants. Tomoyo crouched down at the edge of the bed and brushed her fingers against the delicate leaves. 

"What are these, Hiiragizawa-kun?" Tomoyo smiled up at him. "The leaves are so pretty already, and they're still very small . . ." 

"Flax," Eriol replied. "Later this summer they'll flower, some blue, some white." He crouched down next to her and absently pulled a small weed from the flowerbed. "The flowers are small and plain, but they bloom on long, slender stalks that wave in the breeze." 

"They sound beautiful," Tomoyo commented. 

"They were some of Kaho's favorites," Eriol said quietly. 

Tomoyo looked stricken. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to bring her up . . ." 

Eriol smiled weakly and stood up. "Don't worry about it, Daidouji-san. It's not your fault; you couldn't have known." He helped Tomoyo to her feet then gave her another tired smile. "We're both pretty prickly about certain subjects, aren't we?" 

Tomoyo winced. "Yes, I suppose we are. You spend your time trying to avoid all mention of Sakura-chan, and I'm normally so very careful not to bring up the subject of Mizuki-sensei." 

"Do you think all of the secrecy is necessary?" Eriol asked curiously. "I mean, we're fairly good friends now, aren't we?" He sounded a little unsure of himself, hopeful. 

"Yes, I think we're good friends," Tomoyo agreed firmly. "And maybe we ought to stop avoiding certain subjects." Tomoyo turned slightly away from Eriol, then made her way over to a stone bench that was nestled in a hollow near the herb garden. 

Eriol sat down next to her on the bench. "If you want to talk about Sakura-san, I'll listen," he said intently, holding Tomoyo's gaze. 

For a moment, Tomoyo was disoriented by the intensity of his stare, but she shook it off. "It might be nice to talk to someone about her," she agreed. "But only if you'll feel free to talk to me about Mizuki-sensei." 

"Of course, Daidouji-san," Eriol responded. He paused, then asked a searching question. "How do you feel about Sakura-san's visit?" 

Tomoyo sighed and folded her hands demurely in her lap, not meeting Eriol's eyes. Instead, she gazed out over the garden, watching a pair of wrens in one of the small trees. One of them was busily singing his heart out for the other, who was affecting an air of nonchalance as she listened attentively. "The birds seem to sing with a sort of desperation in the spring, don't they?" Tomoyo commented, not quite ready to face the subject of Sakura. 

Eriol chuckled quietly. "That horny little bugger's trying to lure his lady friend there to his nesting site. The singing sounds very romantic to us, but that little bird's only goal is to get into the female's proverbial pants." 

Tomoyo chuckled. "That reminds me of the way most of the boys at school have been acting this spring." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "They've been chasing the girls around ever since the trees started budding out." 

"You make it sound as if those 'boys' and those 'girls' are a completely different species, Daidouji-san," Eriol said with a slight raise of his eyebrow. "In case you'd forgotten, you are a girl too." 

"Yes, and you're a boy," Tomoyo agreed, "But we're different, aren't we? Have you ever chased a girl around the football field just because it's spring and your hormones are screaming at you? I know I've never batted my eyelashes at a boy before." 

"I think you batted them at _me_ a couple times," Eriol said. 

"That's different," Tomoyo replied airily. 

Eriol sighed, his expression mournful. "You wound me, my dear!" He grinned. "But just because I've never chased a girl around the football field doesn't mean that I don't listen to the screams of my hormones. I'd just like to think that while I listen to my hormones, I also listen to my brain. I also haven't found quite the right girl to chase around the football field." 

"That's just it," Tomoyo said carefully, trying to figure out how to express what she wanted to explain. "I'm almost sixteen, but I don't act like it. I've always kept things inside, both for my sake and the sake of my friends. Can you imagine what would have happened if I'd ever told Sakura how I felt about her?" 

"I think she guessed," Eriol said softly. 

Tomoyo swallowed hard. "I know, but that's different from a full-blown confession on my part. I've loved her since we were both little girls. But she loves Li-kun, not me." 

"Sakura-san loves you, just not in quite the same as the way you love her," Eriol corrected gently. "Don't ever forget that, Daidouji-san. She's always loved you." 

"I know, I know," Tomoyo said, "But I've always wanted more. Do you have any idea how difficult it's been, sustaining myself on _her_ happiness? I worked so hard to convince myself that all I needed to be happy was _her_ happiness. I'm just not sure I can keep it up anymore. How on earth will I be able to convince Sakura that I'm happy when she comes to visit?" There was a note of panic in Tomoyo's voice. 

"Why pretend?" Eriol suggested hesitantly. 

Tomoyo gave Eriol a clearly uncomprehending look. 

Eriol continued. "Do you really think Sakura can't tell when you're unhappy? When I talked with her on the phone she asked me how you were doing. She already knows that something's wrong." 

Tomoyo frowned. "You two were talking about me?" Her voice was suddenly cool. "What did you tell her?" 

"Nothing, really," Eriol assured her. "But she mentioned that she knew something was wrong from your letters." Eriol smiled slightly as he watched her expression soften. "I know it hurts to watch her with Li-kun, but instead of pretending to be happy for Sakura-san's sake, why don't you find your own happiness?" 

Tomoyo opened her mouth to reply, then hesitated. Her dark eyes met Eriol's and held them steadily. "I . . . I've never tried that before." 

If the moment hadn't been so serious, Eriol would have found her statement highly amusing. "You ought to give it a try," Eriol said solemnly. "Most people find that they enjoy being happy for purely selfish reasons." 

Tomoyo's lips twitched into a half-smile. "That _did_ sound a bit odd, didn't it?" 

Eriol nodded, smiling a little. "Just a bit. Most people don't have to be told to be happy, you know." 

"I guess I just need a push in the right direction," Tomoyo said. "Thank you, Hiiragizawa-kun." 

Eriol's eyes darkened behind his glasses. "I'm good at pushing," he said in a quiet voice. "And since I think we know each other well enough now, please call me Eriol." 

Tomoyo's gaze was speculative as she eyed the boy seated next to her. The wind tugged playfully at her hair as she searched his expression for some sort of sign. Finally she smiled back at him. "If you wish, Eriol," she replied. "But you have to call me Tomoyo, alright?" She reached out and lay her hand on top of Eriol's, the heat of his skin staving off the chill of the stone bench. 

"Of course," Eriol murmured, his expression now bemused. He reached out and clasped Tomoyo's hand more firmly in his. "I think it's interesting," he began, threading his fingers around hers, "That after all our time in Tomoeda together, we were never on a first-name basis." 

"You were too busy being cryptic and mysterious," Tomoyo noted. 

"Well you were too busy being perfect and aloof," Eriol retorted. "You rarely gave people a chance to get close to you." His thumb was tracing idle patterns on the palm of her hand. 

"I'm giving you a chance now, aren't I?" Tomoyo suggested mildly, a maddeningly mysterious smile on her face. "To get close to me, that is." 

"I think I'll like being close to you," Eriol murmured. His head was now bend slightly towards Tomoyo and his nostrils flared with each inhalation. The floral scent of her shampoo was oddly out of place in the garden, and she seemed all the more exotic for it. 

Tomoyo managed to successfully keep from blushing, but her heart was lurching unsteadily. "Close to me . . ." she murmured absently, her teeth catching slightly on her lower lip. 

Greatly daring, Eriol reached out with his free hand and gently teased her lip out from between her teeth. "Very close," he agreed, his fingers still against the heat of her mouth. 

He leaned closer, head dipping. 

Her eyes drifted closed. 

From the other side of the garden, there was a resounding crash as the door slammed open. Tomoyo blinked in astonishment as Eriol was suddenly no longer next to her on the bench, but standing a discreet distance away, his expression bland. _How on earth did he move like that? _she wondered, a little dazed. 

Nakuru came bounding out of the house, a huge grin on her face. Upon spotting Tomoyo and Eriol, who were studiously not looking at each other, she began to laugh. "Oops, did I interrupt something?" Nakuru asked sweetly, fighting to keep from laughing. 

"It's nothing," Eriol replied shortly, giving Nakuru a little warning glare. "What do you want, Nakuru?" he snapped, irritated. 

"Touchy, aren't we?" Nakuru chided. She winked at Tomoyo, who felt as though her cheeks could catch fire at any moment. 

"Stop joking around and tell us what's going on," Eriol demanded, losing his patience. 

Nakuru pouted cutely. "Well, you're no fun," she said. "I have a wonderful surprise for you two, but you don't seem to be in a very good mood." Nakuru folded her arms across her chest. "Well, if you're going to be so nasty to me, then maybe I won't tell you who just arrived . . ." 

Eriol half-rose, almost ready to go after Nakuru with the small garden trowel he'd found. 

"Tomoyo-chan!" The joyous call was almost a shriek, and it came from the same doorway Nakuru had appeared through. In a blur of pink and red-gold, Tomoyo suddenly found herself wrapped in an exuberant, peppermint-scented embrace. 

Close behind the swirl of pastel colors came Li Syaoran, neatly dressed in slacks and a slightly rumpled button-down shirt. His hair was mussed and he looked exhausted, but he gave Tomoyo a sweet smile that lit his amber eyes. "Hi there, Daidouji-san," he mumbled politely, walking at a more sedate pace toward her. 

Tomoyo drew her attention once more back to the small girl who had so energetically hurled herself into Tomoyo's arms. "Sakura-chan?" she said, her voice quavering only a little. 

Sakura pulled back enough to beam at Tomoyo. "Syaoran-kun and I caught an earlier flight and we wanted to surprise you. We stopped by your house first, but your father said you were here. So here we are!" 

Tomoyo's gaze slid sideways to Eriol, whose face was an expressionless mask. Tomoyo couldn't tell what he was thinking, and was at a complete loss as to how to deal with the situation. "Sakura-chan," she murmured once more. 

"Oh, Tomoyo-chan," Sakura was excited, green eyes aglow. "I've missed you so much, you know. It's wonderful to see you again." She hugged Tomoyo again then pressed a quick kiss to the dark-haired girl's cheek. 

"I've . . . missed you too," Tomoyo managed to say, her voice sounding strangely hollow to her own ears. Her heart was thumping wildly in her chest, and vertigo threatened to overcome her delicate composure. Whatever she'd been expecting to feel when Sakura appeared, this certainly wasn't it. There was no way she could have predicted nausea as a side-effect of Sakura's visit. 

Eriol remained silent. Syaoran glanced at him, giving him a quick, hard stare, as though daring him to break up the touching reunion between the girls. But Eriol wasn't inclined to speak 

Eriol continued to watch Tomoyo, his expression blank, his eyes dark with secrets.   
  


  
**Brief Notes** -- I've done a bit more revision on these sections. One minor change is that I recently discovered that British high schools are 'colleges' (like in France). So I've changed a couple bits here and there. Thankee Jae. I've also fixed some of the naming issues. Woo. Next part is under construction and moving along slowly. Comments and constructive criticism are welcome and appreciated.   
  



	6. Vivace

**~~ A Cappella ~~**

**A Card Captor Sakura Fanfiction by Kit**   
  


All characters portrayed here are the property of CLAMP, Kodansha, a bunch of other Japanese media companies, and a certain Canadian dubbing company that will heretofore go unnamed. I don't claim to own these characters, but the situations I put them in belong to me. I would rather this wasn't posted anywhere without my permission (right now it can probably be found on the CCSFWML groups site, the CCSFWML website, and fanfiction.net), so email me with questions. Don't steal. I bite. 

Part Six -- Vivace   
  


**vivace** -- _adv or adj_ -- _direction in music, to be played briskly, in a lively manner._   
  


"Do you have any tens?" Syaoran asked Tomoyo. 

"Go fish!" Tomoyo replied cheerily. 

Syaoran grumbled something inarticulate and pulled a card from the pile in the middle of the table. His frown abruptly vanished once he glanced at the card. "I got a ten!" He flashed the ten of hearts at the other players before tucking it into his bundle of cards. 

"Don't you have all the tens yet?" Eriol asked curiously, a faint smile on his face. 

Syaoran shot him a suspicious glance. "No, not yet." 

"Well, since you pulled the card you asked for, you get to go again," Eriol told him. 

Another suspicious glance. "Do _you_ have any tens, Hiiragizawa?" he asked quickly. 

Eriol beamed. "Go fish." He winked surreptitiously at Tomoyo. 

Syaoran grumbled some more and went fishing. 

Tomoyo was eying her cards carefully, a slight crease between her delicately arched eyebrows. "Hmm . . . Sakura-chan? Do you have any fives?" 

With a long-suffering sigh, Sakura handed over two fives. "Didn't I just ask you for fives?" 

"I drew one on my last turn," Tomoyo replied with a self-satisfied smile. Then she turned to the boy sitting next to her. "Eriol-kun," she chided gently. "You shouldn't smirk like that." 

"Why on earth not?" Eriol asked, slightly startled. 

"Because it makes it easy to guess where the final five is," she answered. She held out her hand and smiled sweetly. "Hand it over, Eriol-kun." 

Eriol sighed but complied, and Tomoyo set down all four fives in front of her. "This is fun," she told everyone. 

Syaoran glared, Eriol looked a little frustrated, and even Sakura was on the verge of pouting. The three had decided to play cards that evening, and were now seated around a small, round table in Eriol's sunroom. Sakura and Syaoran were well-aware of Tomoyo's uncanny skill at most card games, so they'd proposed trying one she'd never played before. Unfortunately, despite the fact that Tomoyo was the only novice 'Fish'-player present, she was still winning. 

"Let's see," Tomoyo murmured, looking at her cards again. "I get to go again, don't I?" 

"Yes, Tomoyo-chan," Sakura said. She glanced down at her two books of cards in front of her and shot Syaoran a mournful look. He was too grumpy to respond, however, since he had only _one_ book. 

"Eriol-kun, do you have any aces?" Tomoyo finally asked. 

"Go fish," Eriol said, looking rather relieved. 

"Oh, well," Tomoyo said cheerily as she reached for a card. 

"Are you sure you haven't played this game before?" Eriol asked her suspiciously. He now knew her well enough to determine her moods, but she was still very good at hiding things from him. 

"Nope," Tomoyo said. "But it's fun. We should play again after I win this game." 

"You don't need to rub it in, Tomoyo-chan," Sakura said. She deliberately gave Tomoyo her best 'wounded puppy-dog stare.' 

Tomoyo gleefully stuck her tongue out at Sakura. "I'm not rubbing it in," she announced seriously, "I'm making a factual statement. Was there any question of my winning this game?" 

Sakura made a face. "Probably not, but it's still impolite to talk about it. Isn't it, Syaoran?" 

Syaoran looked about ready to bang his head against the tabletop and didn't deign to reply. 

Eriol watched their exchange curiously. When Sakura and Syaoran had first appeared in the garden following Nakuru, Tomoyo had looked to be on the verge of fainting. For several minutes afterward, she'd looked faintly nauseous. Even now, Tomoyo's expression was slightly pained, as though there was something subtly wrong with her. But she was chattering cheerfully with Sakura, and Eriol could detect nothing unusual about her manner. It was surprising and worrying. 

Movement from across the table drew Eriol's attention and he realized that he'd been caught staring at Tomoyo. Syaoran gave him one of his standard glare and then reminded him, "It's your turn, Hiiragizawa." 

"Why, I suppose it is," Eriol agreed calmly. It made him a bit nervous to know that Syaoran was keeping an eye on him. "Tomoyo-san, do you have any kings?" 

"I have one," Tomoyo said, handing Eriol the king of diamonds. 

"That's it?" Eriol asked, looking disappointed. 

Tomoyo nodded and smiled some more. 

"How about you, Li-kun?" Eriol asked hopefully. 

"Go fish," Syaoran muttered 

Eriol drew his card and tucked it in amongst the rest in his hand. 

"My turn!" Sakura said gleefully, beaming at everyone indiscriminately. 

"Why, yes, I do believe it is your turn, Sakura-chan," Tomoyo replied with a completely straight face. 

Sakura ignored her. "Eriol-kun, give me all your kings." 

Eriol began pulling out his three kings. "Aren't you supposed to phrase that in the form of a question?" He handed her the kings. 

"I don't see that it really matters much," Sakura said primly, laying her four kings down on the table in front of her. 

"It's a matter of style," Eriol declared. 

"Of course, Eriol-kun," Tomoyo assured him, patting him comfortingly on the shoulder. Again, it was difficult to tell whether Tomoyo was joking or not. It was also difficult for him to keep a straight face with her hand on his shoulder. 

"And I get to go again," Sakura announced oblivious to the slightly panicked expression on Eriol's face. 

"Indeed," Tomoyo murmured. 

"How about you, Syaoran?" Sakura asked sweetly, leaning slightly towards the tousle-haired boy at her side. "Got any sevens?" 

"Hey! Don't look at my cards!" Syaoran hugged his cards protectively to his chest. 

"But do you have any sevens?" Sakura persisted. 

"Um," replied Syaoran. 

"I think that's a 'yes,' Sakura-san," Eriol translated with a small smirk. 

Syaoran muttered something rather obscene about Eriol's parentage and calmly flipped him the finger. 

"Be nice, Li-kun," Tomoyo admonished, fighting to keep a straight face. 

"Yes, Syaoran," Sakura agreed. "And give me all your sevens!" 

Syaoran had to finally be threatened with a traditional English breakfast, but he did relinquish his two sevens to his girlfriend. He was rewarded with a kiss from Sakura on one cheek, and a kiss from Tomoyo on the other. By the time Tomoyo's turn rolled around once more, Syaoran's face was beet red, and Eriol's smile looked a little fixed. 

Tomoyo looked at her cards once more, trying to decide where to start. "Might as well bite the bullet," she finally murmured before turning back to Syaoran. "I hope you know that I take no pleasure in doing this, Li-kun," she told him apologetically. 

"Huh?" Syaoran was baffled. 

"Do you have any tens?" she asked, trying to sound as meek as possible. 

Syaoran scowled. "You're cheating, Daidouji!" he accused as he slammed his three tens down in front of Tomoyo. "You were hiding the last ten all along, weren't you?" 

"No, but I picked it up after my last turn." Tomoyo set down all four tens. "Isn't it funny the way things work out like that?" 

"Funny is not the word I was thinking of," Syaoran muttered. 

Sakura threw him a soothing glance, which he patently ignored. 

"Let's see . . ." Tomoyo murmured, gazing at her cards once more. "Eriol-kun, I'm afraid I'm going to have to request your aces." 

Eriol looked distinctly startled. "I didn't have any aces last time, did I?" 

Tomoyo crooked a finger at him. "But I bet you do now, don't you?" 

"It's positively uncanny," Eriol said. Syaoran was nodding in agreement with him, for perhaps the first (and last) time ever. 

Tomoyo lay down her four aces and then looked at her remaining cards. "Sakura-chan?" Tomoyo's expression was as cooly contented as usual, but Sakura thought she detected a gleeful little glint in her eyes. "Do you have any sixes?" 

Sakura breathed a sigh of relief. "No, go fish, Tomoyo-chan." 

Tomoyo didn't look disappointed at all. When she saw what she drew, she beamed. "I drew a six," she said. 

"You've got to be kidding," Syaoran muttered. 

"You _are_ supposed to show us the card," Eriol noted. "Just to prove that you really drew a six." 

Tomoyo waved the six of spades at him. "Proof enough for you, Eriol-kun?" 

Eriol sighed and made a mental note never to play cards with Tomoyo again. 

"Li-kun," Tomoyo began, turning her gaze upon Syaoran. "Do _you_ have any sixes?" 

"No," said Syaoran, with a bit more gusto than was probably necessary. Once more, he turned back to watching Eriol watch Tomoyo. Sakura remained oblivious. 

Tomoyo drew another card from the pile and began to laugh. 

Eriol gave her a hard look. "You drew a six, didn't you?" 

Tomoyo nodded, her eyes shining with mirth. 

Sakura began to giggle as well, prompting Eriol and Syaoran to exchange a long-suffering look that recognized their mutual, complete bafflement by the women in their lives. 

It took Tomoyo three more requests before she finished her turn. In the end, her turn was only over when she won the game. It was a dark day for the veteran 'Fish'-players. 

Finally, to rescue her friend from impending violence, Sakura dragged Tomoyo outside, expressing an interest in the garden. Syaoran and Eriol were left at the table. Syaoran was frowning at Eriol again, and tapping his fingers idly against the tabletop. Eriol decided not to enter a staring-contest with the other boy, and was calmly shuffling the cards with all the panache of a Vegas casino dealer. After briefly wondering if Clow knew any card tricks, Syaoran broke the silence. 

"You do realize," the Chinese boy began conversationally, "That if you hurt her, I will personally hunt you down and break both your kneecaps." 

Eriol stared. "Pardon?" 

"Kneecaps," Syaoran repeated. "Those roundish bones on the front of your knees. Also known as patellae, I believe." 

Eriol backtracked. "I know what kneecaps are, and I also know what's involved in their breaking. What else were you talking about?" 

Syaoran gave Eriol a hard glance, then scowled once he realized that Eriol truly had no idea what he was talking about. "I mean Daidouji," he explained curtly. "Hurt her, and I'll hurt you. She's Sakura's best friend, and she's my friend as well." 

"Mine too," Eriol said faintly. He raised an eyebrow at Syaoran. "What makes you think I have any intention of hurting her?" 

"I saw the way you were looking at her," Syaoran explained. 

"And just how was I looking at her?" Eriol prompted curiously. 

"Like you'd just realized she was female and were contemplating how to explore that realization." Syaoran paused, then added, "Or maybe you were looking at her like a wolf eyes its prey." 

"Hey, I'm not the wolf here," Eriol protested mildly. 

Syaoran glared. 

"But anyway," Eriol continued, "I was _not_ leering at Tomoyo-san, and I was likewise not eyeing her like a piece of fresh meat." He shook his head. "Honestly, Li, I have no idea where you get these ideas from." 

"Don't give me that crap, Hiiragizawa," Syaoran said, his face darkening with anger. "Your intentions are not quite as well-hidden as you'd like to think." He paused. "But even though I still don't like you much, I know you're not really a bad person. Just make sure you don't do anything to make me take that back." 

Eriol sighed. "I won't hurt Tomoyo-san," he finally agreed. "I'd rather cut off my own arm before upsetting her the slightest bit." 

Syaoran suddenly grinned at him. "Good answer," he said cheerfully. "Now I don't have to beat you up . . ." 

"But just because I won't hurt her," Eriol continued, ignoring Syaoran and smiling faintly. "Doesn't mean I can't explore the realization that she's a girl and I'm a boy." 

Eriol barely dodged Syaoran's wild punch.   
  


___________________________________   
  
  
  


"It's beautiful," Sakura breathed after Tomoyo had led her outside to stand before the huge spread of the wisteria. 

"Yes," Tomoyo echoed absently. She had already gaped over the wisteria earlier, and took advantage of Sakura's distraction to watch her. Tomoyo finally came to the conclusion that the months had changed Sakura very little, which was oddly disappointing. Tomoyo's life had shifted so wildly since her mother's death, but Sakura was the same as she'd always been. 

Sakura tilted her head back, eyes squinting to look at the higher reaches of the violet-flowered vine. "I've never seen one so big," she added. 

"Mmm," said Tomoyo, not really paying attention anymore. "Come on, I'll show you Eriol's herb garden." Tomoyo led the way down the stone-lined pathways. "I think I can even remember the names of some of them . . ." 

Sakura was listened in polite silence as Tomoyo crouched by the herb beds, rattling off names and facts. Tomoyo continued her inane chatter for several minutes before running out of breath. Sakura gave her a measuring glance. "Are you alright, Tomoyo-chan?" she asked quietly. 

Tomoyo lost her balance and fell from her crouch, her landing cushioned against the soft turf. 

"Of course," Tomoyo said with a bright smile. "I didn't fall far." Her eyes begged Sakura to drop the subject. 

"I don't mean that," Sakura persisted. "I mean . . . are _you_ alright? Are you happy?" Sakura sat down next to Tomoyo and gently touched her arm. "Your letters never seemed to say much." 

"Didn't I tell you about the boys I met at school?" Tomoyo asked. 

"Boys?" Sakura brightened somewhat. 

"Pretty boys," Tomoyo added with a sly smile. 

"Mmm, pretty boys," Sakura echoed with a sly smile of her own. 

Tomoyo lightened the mood by describing the five boys she'd met through Nakuru's pursuits. Despite Sakura's prompting, Tomoyo refused to chose the most attractive. 

"They're all even prettier than I am," Tomoyo insisted. "Or at least, Sin is. The others have more boyish looks, I think." 

Sakura looked skeptical. "I kind of doubt they're prettier than you, Tomoyo-chan," she said reproachfully. "But you must have a favorite, right?" 

"Well, I suppose Colin is my favorite," Tomoyo admitted. "I've spent more time with him than with the others." 

Sakura grinned at her friend. "I see," she murmured, her tone anything but subtle. 

"Don't even _think_ that, Sakura-chan," Tomoyo objected. "It's bad enough that I had to explain things to my father and to Tasha. Colin is gay. Very gay. He likes boys in general, and Eriol-kun in particular." 

Sakura blushed a little. "Oh," she said. "I _do_ see." 

Tomoyo chuckled and began to pick stray lavender stalks from a bush that was flowering. "That's actually how I met Colin. He wanted me to scope Eriol out for him." 

Sakura's eyebrows rose in unison. "So what did you scope out?" 

"I found out that Eriol doesn't swing that way," Tomoyo answered with a wicked little smile. "Personally, I think he's still pining after Mizuki-sensei." She plucked a few more flower stalks, the rich scent of the crushed greenery filling the air. 

Sakura sighed. "I still think it's sad that she left him, even if she is happier now." 

"And she _is_ happier," Tomoyo confirmed. "She was almost _glowing_ when I saw her last." 

"At least that's nice to hear," Sakura decided. She picked a lavender stalk and brought it to her nose. She glanced at Tomoyo and suddenly chuckled. "Dare I ask how you found out that Eriol-kun wasn't interested in Colin?" 

Tomoyo began to laugh. "You may dare," she said. 

Sakura gave her a pointed look. "So start talking, Tomoyo-chan." 

"Well, it turned out that he thought that I was asking him about Colin because _I_ was interested in him myself." Tomoyo snorted. "As if I'd need Eriol-kun's permission to date anyone. Anyway, he finally came out and told me that if I really liked Colin, then Eriol thought that it would be a good match." She rolled her eyes. "Then I laughed until my stomach ached." 

Sakura giggled. "Poor Eriol," she said without much sympathy. "He was probably trying to be noble by not hurting your feelings. Then he wouldn't have to risk a broken heart. He's so silly about things like that." 

"A broken heart?" Tomoyo relocated herself to another lavender bush and began picking again. "What on earth are you talking about?" 

Sakura looked a little puzzled. "You mean, you didn't notice?" 

"Notice what?" 

"Eriol's in love with you, Tomoyo-chan." Sakura sounded rather satisfied that she'd picked up on something before Tomoyo did. It was a rare occurrence. 

"Eriol's _in love with me_?!" Tomoyo's eyes were like saucers. "Sakura-chan, of course he isn't! He still loves Mizuki-sensei. He's already told me as much." 

"But haven't you seen the way Eriol-kun _looks_ at you?" Sakura insisted. "He watches you all the time, as though you'd disappear if he didn't constantly keep an eye on you." 

"He flirts with everyone," Tomoyo replied coolly. "It's just the way he is. He's changed a bit since you last saw him in Japan." 

"So have you, Tomoyo-chan," Sakura returned. "You flirt back." 

Tomoyo laughed drily. "It's good practice." 

"Whoever you choose to love will be the luckiest person alive," Sakura announced solemnly. 

For a moment, Tomoyo felt on the verge of tears. _She _is_ the luckiest person alive,_ she thought wearily, _She truly is._

Then the scent of lavender wafted towards her, filling her nostrils with the tang of the leaves and the heady floral fragrance. _Eriol smelled nice_, she thought inanely, her mind flitting back to their interrupted moment in the garden. What had happened? More importantly, what might have happened if Nakuru hadn't arrived with Sakura and Syaoran in tow? 

There was certainly a sort of attraction between Eriol and herself. It was undeniable. Yet it was nothing like what she felt for Sakura. Tomoyo didn't have the same urge to place herself between Eriol and the rest of the world to keep him safe and innocent. Of course, Eriol wasn't innocent. She somehow suspected that he'd been born without a shred of innocence . . . 

". . . kneecaps!" Sakura finished, grinning cheerfully. She winked at Tomoyo, then waited for a response. 

Unfortunately, Tomoyo missed everything that Sakura had said. "What?" she asked blankly. 

"I said that while whoever you love will be the luckiest person alive," Sakura repeated patiently, "If that person doesn't love you back, then I'll get Syaoran-kun to go break their kneecaps!" 

Tomoyo looked startled for a moment, then chuckled. "I may take you up on that offer someday," she said with a rather malicious grin. 

Sakura beamed. "Great!" she said. "Why don't we go back inside and . . ." 

A choked shout from inside interrupted Sakura. The shout was followed by the thudding of feet against a hardwood floor and the crashing of toppled furniture. 

". . . find out what's going on in there," Tomoyo finished, rising to her feet, bundle of lavender in one hand. "Just because it sounds like a reenactment of World War II doesn't mean that they're fighting." 

Sakura grimaced cutely. "I'll bet you a thousand yen that they're bickering, at the _very_ least." 

Tomoyo snickered. "I . . . don't think I'll take you up on that bet . . ." 

They dashed inside together.   
  


___________________________________   
  
  
  


The ice helped a little. The aspirin helped more. 

Eriol sighed and sunk deeper into the couch cushions. To her credit, Tomoyo hadn't laughed when she found him cradling his head after his little tussle with Syaoran. Syaoran hadn't managed to land a punch, but Eriol had tripped over an upended chair and smacked his head hard against the wall. Sakura had joined in Syaoran's laughter, but Tomoyo had suppressed her smiles admirably and simply darted off for an ice pack and a bottle of aspirin. 

To make the situation all the more unbearable, Syaoran had emerged completely unscathed. Of course, Eriol hadn't been _trying_ to hit his decidedly un-cute relative. Eriol had contented himself with merely dodging and snickering at Syaoran's irritation. And now, hours later, Sakura and Syaoran had trundled off to their separate bedrooms for the evening, and he was left alone with his headache and his surliness. 

Tomoyo had left nearly an hour ago to ask her father if she could stay over with Sakura. Eriol suspected that the simple question had evolved into a rather complex debate. From what he'd learned from Tomoyo, Daidouji Hiroshi was nervous about young males who showed an interest in his only daughter. While in general, Eriol would approve completely of Hiroshi's overprotective nature, since it kept all sorts of unsavory males away from Tomoyo, this particular instance made such overprotectiveness a little irritating. He hoped that Hiroshi's daughter and girlfriend would be able to convince him to relent. He was really hoping that Tomoyo would return. Or at least phone. 

"Tomoyo's on her way in," Spinel announced from his perch beside the bay window next to the front door. "She has a duffel bag with her," he added pointedly. 

"Sounds like she got permission from her father," Eriol replied, rising to his feet. The room spun unsteadily around him. "Oh, my . . ." 

"I'll get the door!" sang Nakuru as she dashed into the foyer. 

"Thanks," Eriol muttered as he flopped back down to the couch. He'd really hit that wall hard, he realized. If it was enough to cause dizziness, did that mean it was a concussion? He wished he'd studied those medical texts more carefully. 

"You need some more ice, don't you?" 

Eriol opened his eyes to find Tomoyo bent over him, her dark eyes examining his expression carefully, her hair tickling his face. "Er . . ." 

"I'll get it for you," she said, pulling the melted pack from his unresponsive hand. 

"I guess this means you can spend the night?" Eriol asked, a little dazed. 

"Yes," Tomoyo replied, her voice echoing out from the kitchen. Eriol heard the distinctive clinking of ice, then she reappeared with a fresh compress for his head. "It took a while to convince my father, but Tasha helped and eventually reason won out against his irrational arguments." Tomoyo settled down on the couch next to Eriol and passed the ice pack to him. "You're sure I'm not imposing?" she asked for the fifth time that evening. 

"Absolutely sure, Tomoyo-san," he told her, also for the fifth time. "There's plenty of room in this big old house of mine. Plus, I was planning on making waffles in the morning for breakfast," he added invitingly. "It's probably time to try out that electric waffle iron that Nakuru insisted I buy for her." 

"It was a great bargain!" Nakuru shouted from the kitchen where she was tidying up. 

"And we'll have fresh strawberries and whipping cream to go with the waffles," Eriol continued, ignoring Nakuru. 

"You cheated on the strawberries," Spinel noted from his post by the front door. 

"It's not my fault that the strawberries in the garden weren't ripe yet," Eriol replied, a little irritated. "And I only gave them a little nudge." 

"I'm sure they'll be delicious," Tomoyo assured him, politely keeping her giggles under control. 

Spinel made a rude noise. "Of course they'll be delicious. What would be the point of using magic to ripen bad strawberries?" 

"Hush, Spinel," Tomoyo murmured absently, sharing a grin with Eriol. 

"Hmph," Spinel said. "I guess that's my signal to go to bed, isn't it?" He fluttered into the room where Eriol and Tomoyo were seated on the couch and nodded his head politely at them. "I can tell when my presence isn't wanted anymore." Then he darted off down the hallway. 

Tomoyo frowned slightly. "Did I upset him?" 

"No, he just likes feeling put-upon," Eriol replied with a roll of his eyes. 

Tomoyo gave a silvery little laugh and tucked her feet up beside her on the couch. She glanced around the quiet room. "I suppose I missed Sakura-chan and Li-kun, right?" 

"They were tired after their flight," Eriol explained. "I sent them off to bed . . . ." 

Tomoyo gave Eriol a steady look that suggested he'd better complete his statement or face Tomoyo's not-so-easily-dismissed wrath. 

". . . in their separate rooms," Eriol finished quickly. "I _do_ have more than one guest room, you know." 

"Of course," Tomoyo agreed mildly. 

"Care for some tea and a quick snack before bed?" Eriol asked, changing the subject. "You didn't eat very much earlier . . ." 

"Well, perhaps . . ." Tomoyo hesitated, loath to send Eriol into the kitchen once more. He and Nakuru had been providing snacks for all three guests all afternoon. She reached up to absently tug at the tight collar of her uniform shirt. 

"It would be no trouble at all, Tomoyo-san," Eriol assured her, as though reading the reason for her hesitation. "I'll just put the kettle on for tea and pull out some of Nakuru's cinnamon-glazed biscuits from this afternoon." He rose to his feet, managing to hide his unsteadiness. His head was still throbbing from his run-in with Syaoran. 

"That would be lovely," Tomoyo finally agreed, inclining her head politely, dark hair sliding forward to brush her pale cheeks. 

Eriol walked carefully toward the kitchen, but paused in the doorway to turn back toward Tomoyo. "While I'm waiting for the water to boil, you could go change into something more comfortable, if you like?" 

Tomoyo's eyebrows rose toward her hairline. 

"You've been pulling at your tie and collar all evening," Eriol explained, smiling faintly at her surprise. "I just thought you might want to get out of your school uniform . . ." He trailed off significantly and then disappeared into the kitchen. 

"Know-it-all," Tomoyo muttered, rising from the couch and searching for a safe place to change. 

"I believe the technical term is 'smartass,'" Nakuru added snidely, poking her head out of the kitchen to wink at Tomoyo. 

"I heard that!" Eriol sang out from the kitchen. 

Nakuru giggled and winked at Tomoyo again. 

Tomoyo darted off into the bathroom before she could get caught up in further exchanges of good-natured insults exchanged between creator and creation. 

In the kitchen, Eriol alternated between nervously fingering the throbbing portion of his skull and half-heartedly assembling a small platter of biscuits for Tomoyo. Nakuru was taking care of the tea, which was good, since Eriol was so distracted that he would certainly have burned himself or set the curtains on fire. The realization that he and Tomoyo would be sleeping under the same roof tonight was sudden and completely unanticipated. His reaction was just as startling. 

"Why are you blushing so much?" Nakuru asked suddenly as she peered into Eriol's flushed face. 

"Shut up," Eriol mumbled. 

Nakuru smirked. "Oh, I see," she said significantly, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. 

Eriol managed a rather good imitation of Li Syaoran's trademark scowl. "You see nothing," he said firmly. 

Nakuru snickered and waggled her eyebrows some more. The fine, cinnamon arches bounced like frantic inchworms above the slightly malicious glint of her bright, amused eyes. "Tonight's the night you're finally going to seduce Tomoyo-chan, right?" Nakuru calmly poured the boiling water from the shrieking kettle into the prepared teapot. 

"There will be no seducing going on in this house!" Eriol bellowed, rather louder than he'd initially intended. 

"What, you're going to do it in the garden, then?" Nakuru asked innocently as she loaded up her tray with the teapot, two cups and saucers, and an assortment of tea additives. 

Eriol's face was flaming, much to his horror. As someone who couldn't even _remember_ the last time he blushed, such inconvenient flushing was as much an embarrassment as a novelty. "For the last time," he half-yelled, "I am _not_ trying to sed . . ." 

"Did you two need any help in here?" Though Tomoyo's voice was politely calm, her eyes were inquisitive as she peered in through the doorway. Eriol couldn't tell how much of the conversation she'd heard. 

"Actually, we were just getting ready to bring the tea and biscuits out," Nakuru replied smoothly, covering for Eriol's slack-jawed blankness. 

Caught between furious embarrassment and hesitant attraction, Eriol silently followed Nakuru out of the kitchen, carrying the platter of biscuits. Nakuru arranged the snack on the low table in Eriol's sitting room, muttered something about needing more sleep, then politely excused herself and vanished. She did, however, shoot Eriol a final, significant Look, and a sly wink. Eriol felt like sinking into the plush carpeting. 

"These biscuits really are excellent," Tomoyo murmured after a long silence. 

"Mm," Eriol replied vaguely, going through the automatic motions of pouring the tea. "Cream? Sugar?" 

"Cream, yes," Tomoyo replied briskly, "Sugar, no." 

Eriol dressed her tea as instructed and passed her the cup. They sat in companionable quiet for several minutes, sipping, nibbling, and generally avoiding eye contact. They sat near enough to each other that Eriol could feel the faint ghost of heat from her body trembling against his side. It made him feel strangely light-headed. 

Tomoyo seemed calm and collected, though her eyes were dark with her inner thoughts. Eriol was almost painfully aware of _her_, however. She _had_ changed into 'something more comfortable,' her pajamas if Eriol had to make a guess. The lightweight cotton pants billowed around her slim legs, almost sheer, and the camisole top clung to her in ways that made Eriol's eyes bulge. Tomoyo seemed totally oblivious of Eriol's reaction, and Eriol was suspicious. Was this some sort of obscurely backward manner of flirting, or could Tomoyo _possibly_ be completely unaffected by the fact that she was wearing an alluring bedtime ensemble while sitting next to a boy who she _had_ to know was acutely attracted to her? 

_Acutely attracted,_ Eriol reminded himself firmly. _Attracted, nothing more._

"This tea is really excellent as well," Tomoyo said suddenly, to fill the silence. 

"Thank you," Eriol said politely, giving Tomoyo a bland smile to cover his uneasiness. He could feel the heat rising to his face, among other portions of his anatomy, and hoped she wouldn't notice. Was Tomoyo actually _trying_ to make him choke on his tea? He continued to watch her out of the corner of his eye. 

Tomoyo set her cup down on its saucer and leaned gingerly back against the cushions of the couch. "It's been a long day," she commented idly. 

"Mmm," said Eriol. 

Tomoyo reached her arms up over her head and arched her back in a slow, languorous stretch, wincing when her back crackled audibly. "Hmm, I guess I'm stiffer than I thought," she murmured. 

Eriol stared fixedly at his teacup, trying to banish from his mind the image of Tomoyo, hair spilling over bare shoulders, back arched, neck inclined gracefully against the burgundy of the upholstery. He swallowed loudly.. 

There was another awkward silence. Eriol got the impression that Tomoyo was watching him, gauging his behavior, but he wasn't quite sure why. He cleared his throat, but refused to make eye contact. "Your back's probably stiff because of today's stress," he said clinically. "Having Sakura-san show up like she did was quite surprising." 

"Yes, it was," Tomoyo agreed quietly, the measuring expression melting instantly from her face. She looked unsure of herself once more, and Eriol regretted bringing up the subject of the Clow Mistress. 

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked her, his voice low. "Alright about Sakura, I mean. I don't think you ever actually answered when I asked earlier this afternoon . . ." 

Tomoyo frowned slightly. "I was a bit upset this afternoon," she said carefully. "And confused." 

Eriol hid his disappointment well. 

"But now I'm even more confused," Tomoyo continued. "Sakura-chan . . . well, she's just the same as she was when I left Japan." 

"And you've changed?" Eriol prompted when Tomoyo didn't continue. 

"Yes!" Tomoyo burst out with uncharacteristic fervor. "My life is different in a thousand tiny ways. But Sakura's the same as she always was and I'm just not sure how I feel about that." She nibbled thoughtfully on her lower lip. 

Eriol sighed and reached out to tap Tomoyo's nose with his finger. "I believe," he began, speaking with deliberate slowness, "That in essentials, you're very much the same as you always were, as well." Tomoyo opened her mouth to argue but Eriol cut her off. "I _also_ believe that you're exhausted. You need sleep." 

Tomoyo seemed to consider arguing once more, but decided that it probably wasn't worth it. "You're right," she conceded after a moment. 

"Come on," Eriol said, rising smoothly to his feet. "I'll show you your room." 

Tomoyo rose, collected her bag, and followed Eriol down the hallway, keeping her thoughts her own. Eriol led her up a short flight of stairs, down a crimson-carpeted hall, and then up a quaint little spiral staircase which opened up into a surprisingly large, round room, situated in the turret that rose from the east end of Eriol's peculiar house. It was a beautiful bedroom, complete with glorious antique oak furniture and an enormous bed. Tomoyo stared at that one dominant piece of furniture. 

"It came with the house," Eriol explained, a little embarrassed by Tomoyo's interest in the oversized bed. "It was too large to move, so I had a new mattress made for it. I think it was probably built up here since it's too wide to fit down the staircase." 

Eriol watched Tomoyo eye the furnishings, watched her take in the view the huge windows afforded of the moonlit garden below. There was a faint smile on her face, so he supposed she approved of his taste in decorating. She set her bag down on the padded bench at the foot of the bed. 

"It's a lovely room," Tomoyo decided, ambling over toward the nightstand. "I can't believe you keep something like this for guests." She paused and picked up one of the framed photographs from the nightstand. 

"It's not exactly a guest room," Eriol admitted reluctantly. 

"It was Mizuki-sensei's room, wasn't it?" Tomoyo ran her thumb across the picture frame, eyes caught by the snapshot of a smiling Mizuki Kaho fixed beneath the glass. 

Eriol winced. "Sort of," he allowed. 

Tomoyo gave Eriol a long, steady stare. "Oh," she said after a moment. "It's your room, then?" 

Eriol's smile was fixed. "Yes, but you're welcome to it, Tomoyo-san." 

"I thought you said you had plenty of room for me to stay," Tomoyo asked. "Where are you going to sleep?" 

"On the couch," Eriol replied affably. "And before you start trying to be polite, let me tell you that my mind's made up. You're sleeping up here, and I'm sleeping downstairs. You're my guest, so allow me to be obliging. And if I hear one more word of protest from you, I'm locking you in until morning." 

Tomoyo's smile was genuine this time. "Well, who am I to argue against such defiance?" she asked lightly. She stepped toward Eriol and reached out to briefly touch his hand. "Thank you." 

Eriol wondered why it was that the most casual of contact from Tomoyo was so astonishing to him. "Sleep well," Eriol said quickly before descending the spiral stairs once more. 

At the bottom, he leaned against the freshly papered wall of the hallway. The silk moire patterned wallpaper was a recent addition, a project began once Tomoyo began spending time in his house. It was as though he'd been hoping for an excuse to show her the upper floors. Eriol grit his teeth and continued back downstairs. The couch would be perfectly comfortable for him tonight. 

Visions of dark, swirling hair, ivory-pale skin, and eyes deep with sorrow flashed before him, but he resolutely settled himself into the plush upholstery of the couch. There would be time enough to deal with his recently realized fascination with the girl currently occupying his bed. For now, he was as emotionally drained as Tomoyo was. Sleep came swiftly, if not easily.   
  


___________________________________   
  
  
  


The amber light that filtered through the oiled wood blinds was alien to Tomoyo and she awoke momentarily disoriented. Slowly, she remembered why she was in the unfamiliar room, snuggled into an enormous, unfamiliar bed. 

_This is Eriol's house,_ she reminded herself. _This is his room, his bed._

She had slept remarkably well in such an unusual situation. The tower bedroom was completely silent, aside from the occasional sigh of wind over the peaked roof. Tomoyo buried her face in the skin-warmed layers of silk that covered the soft pillows. The entire bed smelled like Eriol. It was that subtle scent that wove into her weary mind and had lulled her to sleep that night. Tomoyo was a little frightened by how easy it was to fall asleep, nostrils full of Hiiragizawa Eriol. 

Now, as she slowly uncurled herself from sleep, stretching upright, hair swirling around her sleepy face, the pictures on the nightstand caught her eye once more. The silver-gilt frame held a soft-shaded photo of Mizuki Kaho in a deep crimson dress. The polished mahogany frame displayed the woman in profile, freshwater pearl drop-earrings shivering against her pale neck. Another picture featured Eriol and Kaho together, caught in a half-embrace beneath an ancient willow tree. They were both smiling serenely at the camera. Tomoyo turned away from the tiny, disturbingly-painful gallery and slid down from the high bed. 

It was early enough in the morning that Tomoyo suspected she was the only one awake. She ran her brush through her hair a few times, nonetheless. Then she silently padded out of Eriol's beautiful bedroom and down the spiral staircase. Her assumptions about Sakura and Syaoran proved to be correct. As she slipped down the hallway, the doors to their borrowed bedrooms remained resolutely closed and silent. 

Tomoyo decided that she was glad she was the only one up and about. She was thirsty, and a little hungry, but her head was still spinning from the activities of the previous day, and she wasn't sure she wanted to deal with other people yet. She had too much to think about . . . 

As she rounded the final corner of the corridor and entered the small sitting room that led to the kitchen, she stopped dead in her tracks. As promised, Eriol was stretched out on the wine-colored couch, fast asleep. 

_Oh, my . . ._ was all that Tomoyo could think for a long, uncomfortable moment as she stared at her host. His glasses were lying neatly folded upon the coffee table, and he looked much younger without them, particularly now that his dark hair was spread out in startling contrast to his pale skin and the warmth of the upholstery. Tomoyo had to admit to herself that he was beautiful in a way few men could manage. _Come to think of it, most _girls_ aren't that pretty,_ Tomoyo decided, her hand rising instinctively to self-consciously smooth down her own hair. 

Eriol was sprawled in a surprisingly untidy manner across the couch, one arm tucked next to his cheek, the other flung out to hang over the edge of the cushions. His legs were splayed in different directions, and the soft woollen blanket he'd covered himself with for the night was nearly on the floor. Tomoyo was tempted to tuck him back into place on the couch, as though he were a child. _He does look ridiculously young,_ Tomoyo thought again. 

In spite of how appealing he looked, Tomoyo managed to keep on going into the kitchen, where she filled the kettle and set it to boil on the stove. She dug out a slightly stale biscuit and nibbled half-heartedly. Then, almost against her will, she peered back out into the sitting room where Eriol remained asleep. 

_It will take a while before the water boils,_ she thought absently as she walked back to the couch and settled next to Eriol. She froze when he stirred slightly, but after he showed no signs of waking, she relaxed again. 

_What am I doing here?_ she asked herself as her gaze was once more drawn to the sleeping boy. _I shouldn't be watching him like this_. But she didn't stir. It was as though her body remained a prisoner against her better judgement. She wondered what that said about her subconscious thoughts on Eriol. 

If nothing else, Tomoyo had to admit that she was indeed attracted to Eriol. It was hard not to be. She, like Colin and a healthy number of other students at Clef, was not immune to his physical charms. And he was probably just as intelligent as Tomoyo was, though it irritated her slightly to admit to it. And he was mysterious, holding himself aloof, something that always attracted people, no matter how rational they were. 

Tomoyo also knew that the attraction wasn't one-sided. Despite her dismissive attitude when talking with Sakura, Tomoyo was fully aware that Eriol hadn't been merely flirting with her the way he flirted with practically anything that breathed. He'd been as caught up in the moment as she had been, that interrupted moment in the garden yesterday. Her pajamas had managed to unnerve him into awkwardness last night. And now . . . 

Tomoyo's eyes widened as they fixed upon Eriol's face again. A pair of sleep-fogged blue eyes gazed steadily back into her own. 

"How long have you been awake?" she asked, managing to keep her voice conversational. 

"Since you came into the sitting room for the first time," Eriol replied with a faint smile. "You were very quiet, but not quite quiet enough." 

Tomoyo rolled her eyes. "I'll try to remember that in the future," she said drily. 

"Actually," Eriol continued, his voice still husky with sleep, "It wouldn't have mattered if you were completely silent. I can always tell when people are around. You have a very distinctive aura, Tomoyo-san." 

Tomoyo was reminded, once again, how different she and Eriol were. Eriol was a sorcerer, both past, present, and future, with powers beyond what she could ever imagine at his beck and call. And Tomoyo . . . well, she was ordinary. Magically, quite mundane. Of course, she had a brilliant mind and a gifted singing voice, but she was as magical as a brick. 

Eriol interrupted her unhappy thoughts by pressing his thumb between her eyebrows, smoothing out the frown lines. "What's wrong, Tomoyo?" he asked curiously. 

"Why were you pretending to be asleep the whole time?" she asked with a playful whine, changing the subject. 

"You seemed content to just stare at me," Eriol replied lightly. "I saw no reason to interrupt you." 

Tomoyo flushed and winced inwardly. _I don't think he'll ever let me live this down,_ she decided. 

"But it's really no problem," Eriol continued. "I don't mind being stared at," he finished, giving Tomoyo a significant look. 

There was something in his gaze that made Tomoyo shiver and want to hide. 

"You're blushing," Eriol noted with a faint smile, his hands coming up to cup Tomoyo's warm cheeks. 

Now Tomoyo could smile. "So are you," she told him, her fingers tentatively tracing the lines of his mouth, his cheekbones. 

A low moan came from the kitchen, a moan that rapidly escalated to a shrill squeal. 

"Tea kettle," Eriol noted absently. 

"Yes," agreed Tomoyo. "Tea kettle." 

The kettle continued to shriek. 

Nakuru's head popped in through the doorway. "Will someone go take the kettle off the stove, please?" she said sharply. Her hair was a tangled mess around her pretty face. "I don't like being awakened before noon on a Saturday. You know that, Eriol!" She pauses and blinked. "And I'm not even going to _ask_ what the two of you are doing, snuggled together half-naked on the couch at six in the morning. I'm just going to go back to bed. Good night." Her head disappeared, but she was careful to snarl back, "And make that damned kettle stop screaming!" 

Tomoyo and Eriol stared at each other for another moment, then burst into full, joyous laughter. Nakuru finally had to come turn off the stove herself.   
  


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Notes: Sorry this took so friggin' long. I kept writing tiny chunks then putting off the rest for a while. That's why this chapter has a very fragmented feel to it (in my opinion). I think this chapter may also cover the shortest period of time of all the chapters. Less than 24 hours elapse since the end of chapter 5. Therefore, there's lots of introspective babbling here, which was both fun and irritating to write. I'm going to try and finish up A Cappella in time for the Clamp Fanfiction Awards, but I'm not promising anything. As usual, comments and criticism are welcome, so either drop comments at FF.N or email me at acalliope@aol.com  
  



	7. Duet

~~ A Cappella ~~ 

A Card Captor Sakura Fanfiction by Kit   
  


All characters portrayed here are the property of CLAMP, Kodansha, a bunch of other Japanese media companies, and a certain Canadian dubbing company that will heretofore go unnamed. I don't claim to own these characters, but the situations I put them in belong to me. I would rather this wasn't posted anywhere without my permission (right now it can be found on my site, the CCSFWML groups site, the CCSFWML website, and fanfiction.net), so email me with questions. Don't steal. I bite.   
  
  
  


Part Seven -- Duet   
  


duet -- n.> -- 1: Music a. A composition for two voices or two instruments. b. A group of two singers or two instrumentalists. 2: A pair.   
  
  
  
  
  


Tomoyo's mind was full of the scent of Sakura's hair as they sat together on a bench in Eriol's garden. Sakura had her arm slung around Tomoyo's shoulder and her head nestled against Tomoyo's. Six months ago, soon after her arrival in England, Tomoyo would have given her right arm to hold her best friend like this. Now, she was merely confused. 

"I can't believe we've been here a full week already," Sakura commented idly to her boyfriend, who was sprawled on the neatly clipped grass a few feet away. 

"I can," Syaoran replied, settling back against the springy turf, shading his eyes from the late afternoon sun with his hand. "I haven't done so much touring in my entire life. I'm going to need a full week of sleep once I get back home." 

Tomoyo glanced over at the amber-eyed boy and suppressed a smile. Syaoran's complaint would have been much more convincing if he hadn't been grinning sheepishly the whole time. He and Tomoyo exchanged a wink. 

Eriol rolled his eyes from his position on the other bench. There had been far too much winking going on between Tomoyo and Syaoran for his tastes. He had the nagging feeling that they were somehow laughing at him. But as he couldn't really prove his theory, he could only put up with the perceived slight. "I don't see why you could possibly be tired, Li-kun," he responded with a slight lift of one fine brow. "You two have been sleeping in until nearly noon every day that Tomoyo-san and I have been in school." 

Sakura giggled at the slightly offended expression on Syaoran's face. 

"We only slept that late because you and Daidouji kept us up all night playing cards," Syaoran retorted. 

"That was only once," Tomoyo corrected smoothly. 

"Twice," Sakura noted. 

"Okay, twice," Tomoyo conceded. "And it was much worse for Eriol-kun and me, I assure you. I had a math exam one morning after a night of cards. I don't even want to think about how poorly I fared on that test." She shook her head slowly, stirring Sakura's hair with the movement. 

"Now remember that the next time you suggest a gin rummy championship tournament at one o'clock in the morning, Daidouji," Syaoran muttered. 

"Why are you complaining, Syaoran?" Sakura asked him, a little piqued. "You seem perfectly alert right now and you were energetic enough last night . . ." 

Syaoran stared at Sakura for a long moment, then blushed to the tips of his ears. "Sakura!" he said in a strangled voice. 

Tomoyo burst into silvery laughter and nearly fell off the bench. 

Eriol cleared his throat. "I'm not even going to ask, Li-kun," he declared primly. 

"But that doesn't stop you from wondering," Tomoyo finished between gales of laughter. 

Sakura blushed a little too. "It's not what you think, Tomoyo-chan," she protested weakly. "Syaoran and I were just . . ." 

"Sakura!" Syaoran looked torn between horror and embarrassment. He also looked ready to tackle his girlfriend if she dared to say anything more on the subject. 

Sakura, perhaps sensing the danger, wisely kept her mouth shut. 

"When does your flight leave tomorrow morning?" Eriol asked, neatly diverting the conversation. 

Tomoyo wasn't sure he was changing the subject for his sake or Sakura's. She merely contented herself with eyeing the dark-haired boy with thinly-veiled suspicion. 

"Ten," Sakura replied. 

"Ah," said Eriol. 

The four fell silent once more. Tomoyo sighed inwardly. 

Even after a week there was still a kind of awkwardness between Tomoyo and Sakura. They never talked about it, but it was assumed. The two boys didn't question the social dynamics of the group; it was probably safer that way. 

Tomoyo wasn't sure how she would react if Eriol asked her, point blank, how she felt about Sakura. If Tomoyo was the type to be prone to violence, she might deck Eriol for such a prying question. But as it was, Eriol gave her plenty of space. Maybe too much space, Tomoyo pondered. Eriol had continued to play the charming host to his guests, but Tomoyo knew he'd withdrawn somewhat from the situation. They still had occasional moments, instances when they seemed to connect on a level that was far beyond merely physical or emotional. 

He's almost kissed me at least half a dozen times, Tomoyo realized, But each time he pulls back. It was damned frustrating. And to top things off, he was wearing his smiling mask again. For the first time in the history of their acquaintance, Tomoyo couldn't read Hiiragizawa Eriol. As soon as Sakura and Syaoran are safely back in Japan, Hiiragizawa-san and I are going to have a little chat . . . 

Of course, if Tomoyo asked Eriol point-blank what was going on between them, then Eriol would undoubtably answer her with a question of his own. There were two possibilities, Tomoyo decided. Either he'll ask me how I feel about him, or he'll ask me how I feel about Sakura. She didn't know which would be more difficult to answer. 

I love Sakura, Tomoyo reminded herself, tilting her head to rest more comfortably against Sakura's shoulder. I always have, and I always will. Some truths are immutable. Sakura was safe. Sakura was a constant in her life. 

Tomoyo suddenly realized that Eriol was gazing thoughtfully at her. That, in and of itself, was not unusual, since he'd recently taken to watching her like a hawk. It was the expression on his face that made Tomoyo want to run away as fast as she could. His blue eyes were dark, despite the sunlight, and his long lashes shaded his eyes into smokey shadows against his pale face. 

Things are changing, his eyes told her. Sakura won't be your crutch for much longer. Will you be ready to sing on your own, Tomoyo-san? 

No! Tomoyo's thoughts were almost panicked. I'm not ready. I'll be left all alone . . . 

Eriol's expression didn't change as he mouthed, Not alone . . .   
  
  
  


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The ride to the airport, the next morning, was an elaborate affair. Eriol, with Tomoyo's willing assistance, had refused to allow Sakura and Syaoran to take a cab to Heathrow. Instead, Eriol hired a car which, despite Nakuru's wheedling, was driven by Eriol himself. Nakuru, after deciding that the world was against her and that Eriol was the ringleader of the conspiracy, bid farewell to Sakura with a kiss, fondly goosed Syaoran, and then scampered back into the house to sulk. Spinel's farewell's were rather more dignified. 

The rental car was a relatively spacious affair, but Tomoyo and Sakura were still relegated to the back seats. They graciously allowed Syaoran the front passenger seat since he could use the leg-room. Syaoran claimed the shotgun seat ostensibly for the purposes of making sure Hiiragizawa didn't crash the car. Despite the fact that Eriol proved his legal right to drive by presenting a license, Syaoran still had a hard time trusting his one-time rival. Sakura noted, from her spot directly behind Syaoran, that even if Eriol was a lousy driver, Syaoran wouldn't really have the right to complain since the closest he'd ever gotten to being behind the wheel was the Tomoeda Video Game Arcade. Syaoran remained slightly grumpy for the duration of the journey. 

Tomoyo was torn between embarrassment and abject terror for the whole trip. Eriol amused himself by making eyes at her through the rear-view mirror. Sakura noticed, of course, and amused herself by winking at Tomoyo and waggling her eyebrows suggestively. To make things even more exciting, Tomoyo wracked her brain in an attempt to remember what the legal driving age was in Britain. She suspected that whatever the legal age was, Eriol hadn't reached it yet. Perhaps there were at least some practical applications for mystical powers. 

Finally, Eriol managed to smoothly direct the car into one of the satellite parking lots at Heathrow, soothing Tomoyo's fears about his driving ability, and the four began the trek towards the terminal. Sakura and Syaoran didn't have much luggage, but Eriol still offered to carry most of it. Another bickering match ensued between Syaoran and Eriol until Sakura and Tomoyo grew bored and simply collected the baggage themselves. 

Tomoyo got the impression that her friends were trying to keep the mood light as they approached the Departures entrance. Tomoyo laughed lightly along with Sakura at one of Syaoran's poorly executed 'stupid gaijin' jokes, but it really seemed that the others were carefully trying to avoid upsetting her. Am I really that transparent? Tomoyo wondered, bemused. Do they think I'm going to burst into tears because Sakura's going back home? 

Syaoran and Eriol cooperated long enough to locate the registration counter, allowing Sakura to present her tickets to the agent. As Tomoyo watched Eriol and Syaoran exchange casual insults, she realized that despite their cheerfully juvenile display, both boys had changed tremendously over the past several months. So had Sakura, in a way. None of them were children anymore, and at times, it was painfully obvious. Tomoyo felt a sudden sharp longing for the days when she was simply the faithful videographer for Sakura and Syaoran's heroic battles against Eriol's minions, who generally manifested as giant teddy bears, plush sheep, or possessed bicycles. 

"Eriol seems a bit more . . . mellow," Sakura murmured in Tomoyo's ear as they followed the boys toward the gate. 

Tomoyo started. "Pardon?" 

"He was really fidgety when Syaoran and I first got here," Sakura explained. "But now he's . . . well, he seems a little less edgy." There was a slight smile on Sakura's face. 

Tomoyo chose to ignore the smile and all it suggested. "Maybe he is," she admitted. "I haven't noticed." 

Sakura hooked her arm around Tomoyo's. "Tomoyo-chan, it's probably rude of me to ask," Sakura began hesitantly, "But what's been happening between you and Eriol-kun?" 

A quick glance forward told Tomoyo that neither Eriol nor Syaoran had heard Sakura's rather blunt question. "Sakura-chan . . ." She bit her lip. "This isn't really the best time to talk about this." 

Sakura flushed a little. "Probably not, but I haven't gotten a chance before now." She had an almost absurdly determined expression on her face. "And you need to tell me. Because if you're not interested in Eriol-kun, then you need to tell him." 

"What difference does it make?" Tomoyo asked curiously. Sakura was agitated about something, and Tomoyo was almost afraid to find out what it was. 

"He's in love with you, Tomoyo-chan," Sakura explained slowly and quietly. "I recognize the signs, dear. He stares at you just like Oniichan stares at Yukito-san. I've had to threaten Syaoran quite severely to keep him from saying something rude to Eriol-kun about it. Eriol-kun is used to being in control and I think he's a bit self-conscious about the whole thing." 

Somehow, Sakura's declaration of Eriol's love wasn't all that surprising to Tomoyo. It wasn't that Tomoyo was somehow aware of Eriol's feelings. Quite the contrary, she was baffled by his behavior most of the time. No, Sakura merely fancied most of her friends in the same sort of relationship she enjoyed with Syaoran. But Tomoyo knew better than to make an issue of it with Sakura. Doing so just might result in bringing Eriol into the conversation. 

"I'm not so sure . . ." Tomoyo temporized. 

"I am," Sakura said firmly. "And I don't know if you feel like you need my approval of him or what . . ." There was a brief pause while Sakura reorganized her thoughts. "You shouldn't need my approval, Tomoyo-chan. You already know that I adore Eriol-kun. I love him almost as much as I love you." The expression on Sakura's face was full of understanding. 

Tomoyo still felt like she was dangling unsteadily from a fifteenth-storey window-ledge, but tears came to her eyes despite her confusion. She came to the sudden realization that Sakura knew. Sakura had always known about Tomoyo's secret feelings, about the longing that had kept her a silent sentinel in Sakura's life for so many years. To top things off, Eriol had been right, Tomoyo realized. Maybe she owed him an apology . . . 

Tomoyo was still trying to compose herself when she and Sakura caught up to the boys at the gate. If Syaoran or Eriol noticed the slight puffiness around her eyes or the faint crease between her eyebrows, they didn't comment or change expression. Eriol located a group of seats together and once they were settled, dragged Syaoran away in search of a coffee-shop. Sakura's determined expression was enough to send Syaoran peaceably off with his one-time rival with barely a frown. 

"So do you like him?" Sakura asked suddenly, after the boys had disappeared back into the main terminal. 

Slightly off-balance by Sakura's sudden question, Tomoyo heard herself faintly whisper, "Yes, very much." 

Sakura's face blossomed into one of the smiles that inevitably set Tomoyo's heart aflutter. "Wonderful!" Sakura enthused. 

"But I don't think I love him," Tomoyo added quickly. 

"Hmm," Sakura said, clearly a little skeptical. 

"It's all come so suddenly," Tomoyo continued, her voice quiet and still painfully unsure. "And Eriol-kun's behavior hasn't been helping at all." 

Sakura raised an eyebrow. "Should I even ask?" 

Tomoyo felt her cheeks heat up. This is ridiculous, she thought. Memories shouldn't be able to make me blush like this. "Probably not," Tomoyo replied. "But . . . he keeps trying to kiss me." 

"And you won't let him?!" Sakura looked aghast. 

"No!" Tomoyo said quickly. "That's not it!" 

Sakura's mouth quirked into an adorable little half-smile. "Then what's the problem?" 

"We keep getting interrupted!" Tomoyo half-wailed in frustration. "First it was Nakuru, then the tea kettle, then Nakuru again, then Syaoran, then the mailman, then Colin on the phone . . ." Tomoyo shook her head. "It's driving me crazy." 

Sakura's smile turned mischievous. "Just imagine what it's doing to Eriol-kun." 

Tomoyo found herself laughing. It felt good. 

It took a minute or two for the two giggling girls to calm down, and once they did, the spotted Syaoran and Eriol returning, loaded with goodies. 

"Hot cocoa for everyone," Eriol proclaimed with a smile. 

"And biscotti to share," Syaoran added. 

"What are biscotti?" Sakura asked curiously. 

"I have no idea," Syaoran admitted with a vague shrug. "Cookies of some sort. Hiiragizawa made me buy them." 

"They're Italian," Tomoyo and Eriol said in unison, prompting further laughter. 

In the twenty minutes before the flight to Japan began boarding, the four of them managed to make a serious dent in the cocoa and biscotti. Then it came time for final goodbyes. 

"Tomoyo-chan!" Sakura sobbed as she flew into her friend's arms. 

"Sakura-chan!" Tomoyo's weeping was only slightly more dignified. 

Syaoran and Eriol declined to hug. 

"I missed you so much after you left," Sakura said between sniffles, "And now that I've visited you here, it's going to be ten times worse." 

"I know, Sakura-chan," Tomoyo said, her tears trickling down to soak into Sakura's hair. "I know." 

"Promise me you'll write more often!" Sakura demanded. 

"I promise," Tomoyo answered. 

Sakura flung her arms tighter around Tomoyo's neck. "And promise me you'll be happy!" she said fiercely. 

Tomoyo hesitated, then nodded, her face muffled against Sakura's shirt. "I promise, Sakura." And she truly meant it. 

The two girls gently disentangled, and turned to the boys. 

"I'll miss you too, Eriol-kun," Sakura told the bespectacled boy solemnly. 

"Of course you will," Eriol agreed as he folded Sakura into a tender hug. 

"And if you hurt Tomoyo, I'll come back to England, rip your heart out, and dance on it," Sakura added cheerfully. 

Somewhat taken aback by Sakura's bloodthirsty threat, Eriol barely managed to mumble something appropriately humble. Then he remembered what he'd forgotten to tell Syaoran earlier. "Oh, Sakura-san," he began earnestly. "I hear you have been having difficulty getting Syaoran to progress to the next level of your relationship . . ." 

Sakura's cheeks flamed. Syaoran pretended not to hear. 

"Here's what I suggest," Eriol whispered. "Handcuffs, Sakura-san." 

"Handcuffs?" Sakura repeated, her expression completely blank. 

Eriol smiled. It was not an entirely innocent smile. "Why don't you ask your brother. He can probably provide both the handcuffs and instructions. Tsukishiro-san might even offer to help demonstrate." Then he kissed Sakura on the forehead in an oddly paternal manner and let her go. 

"Did he just say what I think he said?" Syaoran murmured to Tomoyo. 

"Don't worry about it," Tomoyo told him, wrapping him in a gentle hug. 

Syaoran's arms slid around to hold her as though she were fragile spun-glass. "Good, I'd rather not," Syaoran confirmed. 

Tomoyo's laughter was musical as she rose up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Be a good boy, Li-kun," she instructed fondly. "Take care of Sakura for me." 

"Of course," Syaoran replied, bending down to kiss Tomoyo's cheek in response. His face was scarlet, but he managed without too much embarrassment. 

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Tomoyo rummaged in her handbag. "Here," she said, presenting Syaoran with a flat, cardboard box, perhaps a little longer than his hand. "Give this to Sakura some time when you're alone together. It's my present to both of you." 

"Ah . . . thanks," Syaoran said. He wasn't sure he liked the way Tomoyo was smiling at him. It was almost a smirk. It also reminded him of Hiiragizawa. 

And finally, it was time to board the plane. 

Sakura dashed back and kissed Tomoyo. Full on the mouth. Eriol nearly choked. 

Tomoyo . . . didn't feel the earth move below her feet. The world didn't spin. There were no fireworks or violins or roses. There was just the soft warmth of Sakura's lips against her own. Tomoyo smiled and pulled away. "I love you too, Sakura-chan," she said sweetly. 

Syaoran gave Eriol a glare. "I'm not going to kiss you, if that's what you're wondering," he said firmly. 

Eriol pouted adorably. 

Then they were gone. 

Tomoyo and Eriol stood in silence next to each other and watched the plane take off. 

Aboard the jetliner, Syaoran was curiously inquiring about Eriol's whispered instructions at the gate. Sakura flushed. "You really want to know?" 

Syaoran nodded and she told him. 

"Whoa," said Syaoran. That was about all he could manage as a response. He was caught between wanting to stomp on Hiiragizawa's face for speaking to his Sakura like that, and feeling an embarrassing surge of . . . something, something that involved Sakura. And handcuffs. 

"What did Tomoyo-chan give you?" Sakura asked, breaking up his little fantasy. 

Syaoran drew out the box and peered at it. "I don't know. She said to open it when we're alone. It's supposed to be for you, I think." 

"We're alone now. Sort of." Sakura gestured to the half-filled flight. With a shrug, she pulled the lid off of the box and stared at the contents. Whatever it was that was inside, it was fabric. And lace. Mostly transparent. Actually, there wasn't much there at all . . . 

"Whoa," Sakura said. 

Syaoran was speechless. He'd had no idea that Tomoyo's fashion skills included lingerie. 

"You know," Sakura commented as she recovered the box and stashed it in her carry-on. "Those two deserve each other." 

Syaoran's eyes were slightly glazed, but he managed to nod. "Yes, they certainly do."   
  
  
  


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"You're staring, Tomoyo," Sin noted rather smugly in math class. 

"I am not," Tomoyo denied quickly. It was true; she wasn't really staring at Eriol. Her gaze was fixed on something distant, something beyond the top of Eriol's head. In truth, she was fascinated by how frequently his own gaze drifted toward her. It gave her the chance to sneak glances at him. She was currently puzzling over the exact color of his eyes. 

Tomoyo had always assumed that his eyes were a sort of indeterminate blue, with perhaps a hint of the violet that shone in her own eyes. But now, as she carefully didn't stare, she realized that his eyes were neither blue nor violet nor something in between, really. There was a silver-gray cast to them that astonished her. I've never met anyone with pewter-colored eyes before, she thought. 

"Definitely staring," Justin confirmed with a nod of his head. 

Tomoyo ignored him, focused more on the fact that Eriol's head had whipped around at the sound of Tomoyo's friend's voice. He was also carefully not staring at her. Had Tomoyo herself not been involved in the little drama that was unfolding, she would have undoubtably found it hilariously funny. Unfortunately, seeing as how the boys seated around her had no true involvement, they all immediately erupted into a fit of sniggering. 

"Stop it!" Tomoyo hissed, barely moving her lips. 

"Stop what?" Colin asked, his expression the picture of bafflement. He was also studiously doodling on his math homework. 

"Stop laughing at me," Tomoyo said stiffly. 

"Why would I laugh at you?" Colin's eyes were wide with innocence and Tomoyo couldn't quite tell if it was feigned or not. Finally she decided that he too was laughing at her since his math doodles featured a disturbingly realistic sketch of Eriol wearing only a strategically-placed fig leaf, complete with a tiny, drooling caricature of Tomoyo off to one side. 

"We're not really laughing at you, Tomoyo," Bertie attempted to explain. "But you'll have to admit that the situation's pretty humorous. I mean, you and Hiiragizawa can't keep your eyes off each other, but you're both still in denial. You two need to sit down and have a talk." 

Justin raised an eyebrow. "A talk?" 

Bertie blushed. "Yes," he said pointedly. "A talk." 

"I've never heard that referred to as a 'talk' before," Ben noted, his face nearly as flushed as Bertie's. 

Tomoyo looked disgusted. "You boys have sick minds, you know?" she commented. 

Sin smiled serenely at Tomoyo. "Of course, darling," he confirmed. "That's what boys are like. Just ask Hiiragizawa . . ." 

Tomoyo resolutely turned her gaze to the teacher and made a show of taking notes on the lecture. It was quite difficult, since she could feel six pairs of eyes on her now that Eriol's attention was fixed firmly on her and the other boys. Eriol's gaze was practically burning a hole through the back of her head. She could almost smell the singed-hair scent. 

Which brought Tomoyo's mind unwillingly back to the main problem at hand: What, exactly, was she supposed to do with Eriol? A sly, generally carefully suppressed portion of her mind provided a few startlingly graphic suggestions, but she squashed the thought immediately. She certainly didn't need her subconscious creating elaborate, decidedly sketchy scenes featuring the bespectacled boy seated behind her. Tomoyo definitely didn't need any assistance from her inner-hedonist in the imagining-Hiiragizawa-naked department. Colin's doodles were assisting quite admirably, in fact. 

Tomoyo clenched her jaw almost to the point of pain. What really matters, she decided, quashing visions of silky black hair, pewter-glinting eyes, and a lot of bare, ivory skin, Is that Eriol is, for some unknown reason, interested in me. Hell, he was practically stalking her, his expression alternately melancholy and slyly suggestive as he watched her speculatively during school hours. Fortunately, he was managing to behave himself tolerably during their regular practice sessions. Yet even those were fraught with barely suppressed tension and Tomoyo found herself breathless with both anticipation and dread on those afternoons. Too bad she couldn't think of a polite way to get out of practicing. Eriol had effectively argued his point, and therefore they continued down the bumpy road to the concert. 

The concert was what was keeping her steady. She could deal with singing. It was comfortable and familiar and utterly without surprises. Music was enough to distract her from Eriol's baffling attentions. Unfortunately, it didn't keep Tomoyo from wondering. In fact, she spent a good portion of her waking hours wondering about Eriol. What did he really want from her? Did she want the same thing? Why on earth was she even pondering some sort of liaison with Hiiragizawa? Was it a symptom of some rare, mental disease? 

Worst of all, her surreptitious examination of Eriol led her to surreptitiously examine other young males of her acquaintance. For years Tomoyo had been perfectly comfortable being in love with a girl. Now, flushed with teenage hormones, she was beginning to actually notice boys. It was bad enough that she was actually physically attracted to someone as infuriating as Hiiragizawa Eriol. Now and then she caught herself staring at Justin or Ben, or sometimes even Colin. Colin would probably faint if she told him how cute he was. Tomoyo had to admit that he had lovely green eyes, much like Sakura's, in fact. He also had the silkiest blonde hair she'd ever seen on a boy, or even a girl, for that matter. Tomoyo gritted her teeth to keep from turning to peer at Colin. 

Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately, depending on one's viewpoint) Tomoyo's interests were, for the most part, firmly held by the bespectacled young magician seated a few rows to her right. 

Math class passed with the speed of a rampaging slug. 

Music class was even worse.   
  
  
  


_______________________________   
  
  
  
  
  


"Breathe, Tomoyo," Colin murmured the next morning. 

Tomoyo was not-watching Eriol as the boy casually made his way toward the school, Nakuru in tow. "I'm breathing," Tomoyo said, but she didn't sound too sure of herself. 

"If you say so, honey," Colin replied, his eyes fixed upon Eriol's lanky form. "He is looking awfully yummy this morning. I certainly don't blame you." 

Tomoyo stared at Colin in disbelief. 

"What?" Colin looked a little embarrassed. 

"Did you just call Eriol 'yummy,' Colin?" Tomoyo sounded torn between horror and laughter. The concept of Eriol being 'yummy' or 'tasty' or 'delicious' was something she wasn't prepared to deal with this early in the day. 

"I suppose I did," Colin admitted. 

Tomoyo decided that laughter would be safer and began to giggle at the boy she could almost call her best friend. Except for Sakura, of course. Oh, and except for Eriol. Sometimes. 

The two of them were seated comfortably in the shade of an ancient oak near the wall surrounding Clef Academy. They were technically on school grounds, but no one seemed to notice them. This was probably a good thing considering how close together they were. And casual passer-by would undoubtably assume that they were a couple. Ostensibly, they were working on math problems, but since Tomoyo's head was nestled against Colin's chest, his arm was slung companionably around her shoulders, and their legs were tangled together, they weren't getting much work done. Perhaps the talking was more important anyway. 

"Do you still want him?" Tomoyo asked curiously. She'd been getting all sorts of mixed signals from Colin over the past couple weeks. He still gazed longingly at Eriol when he thought no one else was looking, but he also seemed more cheerful than he had when he'd found out about Eriol's preference for girls. Tomoyo had even caught him checking out some different boys, which the thought was probably an improvement. 

"Hiiragizawa?" Colin rolled his eyes. "Not really, I don't think." He pursed his lips in a way Tomoyo would have found irresistible had he not been almost as gay as Sin and therefore not at all interested in her. 

"But you still watch him," Tomoyo noted. Then she smiled up at Colin, dimples appearing briefly in her pale cheeks. "If you wanted, I could probably knock him out and then drag him over to your house. I might have to get Bertie to help me, but I think I could do it." 

Colin gave her a haughty look. "I prefer my men conscious, Tomoyo," he said. "I also prefer men who aren't in love with my favorite girlfriend." 

Tomoyo sighed. "Love? What makes you say that?" It was a subject she dreaded and anticipated with equal fervor. 

"Oh, Tomoyo!" Colin hugged her close and kissed the top of her hair. "You are so terribly wise in some ways, but you're a child in this." Colin's smile was slow and sweet now, his eyes warm with flecks of amber amongst the green. "He loves you a great deal, even if he's not totally aware of it yet. And I think you're falling in . . ." 

"Don't bother," Tomoyo cut him off sharply. "I know. Believe me, I know. And everyone seems to delight in rubbing my nose in it." She hid her face against Colin's shirt. "It's mortifying, Colin. Sin can barely look at me without snickering, Justin's taken to calling me Mrs. Hiiragizawa when no one else can hear and even Ben thinks it's hilarious." 

"I'll try to talk with them," Colin told her soothingly. He patted her head the way one would caress a cocker spaniel. "I think they just tend to get carried away. I doubt they have any idea that it upsets you." There was a significant pause. "It's not just the teasing, though, is it?" 

Tomoyo winced and gave Colin a wry smile. "No, it's not." She nibbled on her lower lip, trying to figure out how to phrase what she wanted to say. "You remember in math class yesterday, how Bertie was saying that Eriol and I need to talk?" At Colin's nod, she continued. "Well, we haven't. I see him all the time at school and at practices, but we never really talk. The suspense is killing me, Colin." 

"So corner him during lunch and make him talk," Colin suggested. "Or I could chase him down and tie him to a tree so he can't escape, if you wanted me to." 

Tomoyo was visibly horrified. "You mean, just ask him what's going on? Are you crazy?" 

"Wouldn't that be the simplest way to iron out all the kinks between you two?" Colin was completely unruffled. 

"But that's so . . . direct," Tomoyo said lamely. "I can't just . . . well, you know. It would be really awkward . . ." 

Colin grinned down at her. "Tomoyo, you are Japanese to the core," he pronounced. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tomoyo demanded with deceptive calm. She had a nagging suspicion that he was laughing at her. 

"You're always complicating things for the sake of politeness," Colin explained. "Instead of dancing around the subject of romance, you could simply ask Eriol why he's been stalking you. Or you could ask him out on a date." 

"I don't think I could do that," Tomoyo muttered. 

"Hmm, maybe not," Colin admitted, "But you need to do something. By delaying this little talk, you only increase your stress level." 

"I know, I know . . ." Tomoyo sagged against Colin again. 

"Besides," Colin continued, "If you don't make the first move, then you'll have set yourself up as the subordinate in the relationship. Do you really want to give Hiiragizawa any more dominance?" 

Tomoyo wrinkled her nose adorably. "Hmm, you could be right, Colin." She flashed Colin a slightly suspicious stare. "Where on earth did you get all that talk about dominance from?" 

"Biology," Colin replied with a smirk. He began untangling himself from Tomoyo and gathering up his books. Classes would be starting in a few minutes. 

"Biology?" Tomoyo was fairly certain there wasn't an 'interpersonal relationships' unit in Colin's biology class. 

"We're on the animal behavior chapter," Colin said as he rose to his feet. He reached a hand down to help Tomoyo up. "In some groups of animals, like sea lions, a single male may be dominant over a whole harem of females, while in other animals, like hyenas, a single female tends to be dominant over the rest of the pack. Now wouldn't you rather be a hyena than a sea lion?" 

For a moment, Tomoyo could do nothing but stare at Colin. "A . . . hyena?" she said faintly. 

"Yep." Colin looked rather proud of himself. 

"Those are the ones that laugh, right?" Tomoyo's face was expressionless. 

"Sort of," Colin admitted. 

"Are you trying to make a joke, Colin?" Tomoyo raised a single eyebrow in that way she always did. Both Colin and Eriol tended to find it maddening. 

Colin glanced nervously at his watch. "Oh, my, it's almost time for class! I really need to go." He began to edge out of striking distance. "I'll see you at lunchtime, Tomoyo." Then he bolted for the main building of the Academy. 

Tomoyo had never seen him run so fast, save for the times he was being chased by Nakuru. She smiled at his retreating back. Hyenas aside, he could have a point, she decided as she followed him at a more leisurely pace. 

Of course, Tomoyo's revelation didn't save Colin from a particularly biting comment about his own romantic successes (or lack thereof) later on after lunch.   
  
  
  


_______________________________   
  
  
  
  
  


"We need to talk," Tomoyo announced once she was firmly ensconced in a wing-backed chair in Eriol's study. They were taking a break from the music room for a little while and Tomoyo decided that it was as good a time as any for Talks. 

Eriol finished pouring the tea. "What would you like to talk about, Tomoyo-san?" he asked mildly. 

"I think you should explain why you're stalking me," Tomoyo said, a little severely, as she added milk to her tea. 

"Stalking?" Eriol's smile was slightly strained. "What on earth are you talking about?" 

"Well, stalking is really the best word I can think of to describe your behavior," Tomoyo said. "You follow me around, stare at me whenever you can, get jealous when I spend time with other people . . . Are you getting the idea, Eriol-kun?" 

For a moment, it looked like Eriol might argue with her, but he finally nodded. "Fine, then. If you want to call it stalking, then that's what I'm doing." 

"Now explain the 'why,' if you please." Tomoyo sipped demurely at her tea. Eriol was off-balance and she was realizing that this was great fun. She should have tried this weeks ago. 

"I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how fascinating you are, Tomoyo-san," Eriol temporized. "Anyone with half a brain would be mad for you." He was waving his hands. Tomoyo suspected that this was a nervous gesture and hid her smile. 

"You have more than half a brain," she told him. "Why are you stalking me?" 

The silence was thick enough to serve sliced on toast. 

Tomoyo sipped her tea some more and awaited Eriol's response. 

Eriol cleared his throat. "Well, to put it bluntly," he began, his voice deeper and a little hoarse, "I adore you." 

A flush of warmth rose to Tomoyo's cheeks and neck, then settled firmly in the pit of her stomach. It was a nice feeling, but it made her a bit nervous. 

So she rewarded Eriol's honesty with a winsome smile, the kind that made her eyes shine. "Okay," she said simply. 

Eriol gaped at her. 

"This is excellent tea, Eriol-kun," she noted. "Is it new?" 

"Yes, Nakuru ordered it from a catalogue and . . ." Eriol cleared his throat. "But that's not the point!" 

"Hmm?" Tomoyo was all innocence. 

"Don't you have anything to say to me?" His eyes were a bit wild. 

Inwardly, Tomoyo was laughing. This was much more fun than baiting Colin and the Boys. She'd never seen Eriol quite so agitated. "Like what?" she asked curiously. 

"Like . . . like . . ." Eriol was grasping at straws. "I don't know, dammit!" 

"Language," Tomoyo murmured reproachfully. 

Eriol looked at her suspiciously before draining his tea in a single gulp. The tea scorched his throat and he began to cough. 

"Are you ready to finish practicing?" Tomoyo asked gently once his coughing had trailed off. 

"Sure," Eriol croaked. 

"We've only got a few more days until the concert," she noted. 

"Yes," Eriol agreed vaguely. 

"I think I'm finally getting the hang of this." Tomoyo smiled and swept out of the room. 

"Yeah," Eriol muttered as he followed her out. He had a feeling she wasn't talking about getting the hang of the music.   
  
  
  


_______________________________   
  
  
  
  
  


"You know, I feel completely relaxed now," Tomoyo declared as she stared at herself in the mirror. Her makeup was already applied and she looked fabulous. She wasn't humble enough to deny that. 

Colin was carefully running a brush through Tomoyo's hair, gently untangling it and smoothing it to a silky shine. "Weren't you the one who was pacing earlier?" he commented mildly. "And your hands are shaking." He, of all the Boys, was the only one allowed backstage to help Tomoyo in the final stages of her primping. 

"That's different," Tomoyo explained airily. "I always get nervous right before a show. Right now I feel like a good sneeze would knock me over and I could pass out at any moment. But that's not what I'm talking about." Tomoyo's berry-red lips curled into a small, feline smile. "No, I'm completely relaxed about the whole Eriol issue. I had that little talk with him, you know." 

Colin paused momentarily in his brushing. "What, you told him how you felt?" 

"Don't be ridiculous," Tomoyo scoffed. "Keep brushing, Colin," she ordered mildly. 

"So . . . what did the two of you talk about?" Colin was having difficulty containing his curiosity. 

"I made him tell me how he felt," Tomoyo replied, looking entirely too pleased with herself. 

Colin chuckled. "That's my girl," he murmured fondly as he began to coil her hair up around her head. "Bobby pins," he told Tomoyo, who promptly passed him a handful. 

"Have I ever thanked you properly for being so nice to me?" Tomoyo asked after a brief silence. 

"What, for doing your hair?" Colin continued to anchor Tomoyo's hair in place with the pins. "I think we're going to need some hair spray too." 

"Well, for the hair too, but mostly just for being my friend," Tomoyo said with a warmer smile. "If it wasn't for you, I don't think I would have made any friends here at Clef. I was so lost when I got here after Mother died and all. You really mean a lot to me, Colin." 

"Close your eyes," Colin ordered sharply as he pushed the final pins into place. 

Bemused, Tomoyo obeyed and waited while Colin liberally sprayed her hair into place. 

"Okay, you can open them now." 

When Tomoyo glanced up into the mirror, she realized that not only was her hair beautifully coiffed, but Colin had tears in his eyes. "Colin?" 

"You shouldn't make me cry when I'm in the middle of doing your hair," he complained, dabbing at his eyes with his sleeves. 

"Oh, Colin," Tomoyo said with a little sniffle, her own eyes prickling with tears. She hurled herself into Colin's arms, hugging him with all her adrenaline-pumped strength. 

"Don't cry!" Colin shouted around tears. "You'll mess up your makeup, dear one. And be careful of your hair because it's not too secure and . . ." He sighed into Tomoyo's ear. "Aw, bloody hell," he muttered. "I care a lot about you too, Tomoyo." 

Tomoyo hiccuped. "Colin, you're probably one of the best things that's happened to me here in England," she declared. 

"Yes, but I'll never forgive myself if you're late for your act in the concert." Colin gently pulled back and fiddled absently with the curls piled atop Tomoyo's head. "So go put your dress on and come back in here so I can see it, okay?" 

Tomoyo gave him a watery smile, grabbed her plastic-encased dress on its padded hanger, and scampered off toward the girls' dressing room. 

Colin smiled after her for a minute or two then turned to peer into the shadows off to one side of the wings. "How long have you been standing there, Hiiragizawa?" he asked curiously. 

"Long enough," Eriol said, stepping out into the brightly lit staging area. He looked quite dashing in his tuxedo but the image was ruined by the goofy smile he wore. "So she really does want me too?" 

"I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise," Colin said primly. 

"Hmph," said Eriol, folding his arms over his chest. "You're no fun." 

Colin gave Eriol a long, measuring stare. It wasn't the usual heated, do-me gaze he used to throw the dark-haired boy. Colin almost . . . glared. 

"What?" Eriol asked, a little worried. 

"You do realize that I love that girl," Colin pointed out casually. 

"Er . . ." said Eriol. 

"Not the way you do, of course," Colin continued. "But I love her just the same." 

"That's . . . nice to know." Eriol wondered if Tomoyo had been sharing tips with Colin from her 'How To Freak Out Hiiragizawa' list. 

"And if you break her heart," Colin added firmly, his glare intensifying, "Or even upset her, I'll rip your pretty face off and shove it where the sun don't shine. Understand?" 

Eriol blinked. "Perfectly." Was there something about him that made Tomoyo's friends suspicious of him? Did he look like a thug or a child molester or a jaywalker or something? He was baffled by the eery similarities between Colin's threats and Syaoran's. 

"How do I look?" Tomoyo called as she darted out from the dressing room, her dress swirling around her lithe form like live silk. 

Eriol turned and stared at her. Yes, you should always wear red, Tomoyo, my dearest, he whispered silently. 

Tomoyo startled when she spotted Eriol and froze in place. Her blood-red dress, airy and light with layer upon layer of filmy chiffon, suddenly felt too revealing. A blush rose from the low neckline of the gown to heat her face. "Oh, Eriol-kun, you're here." She paused to adjust the fitted bodice. Why on earth did I even contemplate wearing a strapless dress? she berated herself furiously. 

Eriol stopped staring immediately. "Red's a good color for you," he commented quietly. "It brings out the red in your hair." 

"There isn't any red in my hair," Tomoyo said. 

"Hmm," said Eriol. 

Colin contained his laughter and snuck off into the shadows. He needed to get back to the seat his friends had saved for him. There wasn't much time before the show would be starting.   
  
  
  


_______________________________   
  
  
  
  
  


"It took you long enough to do her hair," Ben grumbled when Colin returned to his seat. 

"Tomoyo has a lot of hair," Colin replied with a self-satisfied smile. 

Farther down the row, Sin winked at Colin, pointed at Ben, and mouthed, "He's just jealous." 

Colin rolled his eyes and absently stole Ben's program. 

A tall, red-haired woman and her equally tall, dark-haired husband settled down in the seats next to Colin. He recognized her from somewhere, but he wasn't really sure where. 

"Did you pick up a program, Greg?" the redhead asked. "I think I forgot to grab one." She glanced briefly at the stage. "Tomoyo mentioned that she and Eriol would be singing last, but I'd like to find out who else is performing." 

"You can borrow mine, Ms. Mizuki," Colin said, handing her the program he'd snatched from Ben. Kaho Mizuki's mention of Tomoyo aided Colin in remembering who she was. So this was the woman who'd captured Eriol's heart and held it for so long. Colin met her gaze squarely. 

"Thank you," she said with a smile that made Colin shiver. Colin, who had no interest in women, was deeply affected by the warmth she projected. "Have we met before?" 

"No, but I've heard a lot about you." Colin tentatively returned her smile. "I'm a friend of Tomoyo's. My name's Colin." 

"Ah, Tomoyo told me about you," Kaho exclaimed. "You're the one who she went to Eriol's concert with, right?" 

Colin winced, remembering his ulterior motives for accompanying Tomoyo to that long past concert. The idea of stalking Eriol like a mad fanboy seemed ridiculous now. "Yes, that was me. But tonight I'm here to hear Tomoyo." Colin settled back into his seat. "She really does have one of the most beautiful voices I've ever heard." 

For a moment, Kaho's eyes grew distant and unfocused. "A beautiful Voice, eh?" She pursed her lips. "Now why didn't I think of her earlier?" 

"Pardon?" Colin didn't quite follow her train of thought. 

"Once upon a time," Kaho began, her hand slipping over to cover her husband's, "There was a powerful but lonely sorcerer. Prophecy told him that someday he would find his true love, but he couldn't wait. Love touched him in many ways, but never that prophesied One. He grew cool and distant, his heart locked in ice, waiting for the hot thaw of his fated love." 

Colin's gaze grew speculative. He knew she was describing something terribly important, but he just wasn't sure what it was. It was on the tip of his tongue . . . 

"Then, one day, she came," Kaho continued, her voice rising and falling with an almost musical cadence. "She came to him, not with a flash of light or a roll of thunder, but with a breath of song." 

"And they lived happily ever after?" Colin asked softly. "The sorcerer prince and his musical princess?" 

"We'll just have to find out, I suppose," Kaho murmured. Her smile turned from dreamy to mischievous. "Do you believe in prophecy, Colin?" 

"I don't think so," Colin said. 

"How about fate?" Kaho's eyes were much older than her face as she gazed at him. 

"No," said Colin. "Definitely not." 

"I don't either," she said as the lights lowered, signaling the start of the concert. 

Colin puzzled through her cryptic comments through the first half of the concert, barely paying attention when intermission came and went. 

"Stop staring at the ceiling, Colin," Ben muttered to Colin. "Tomoyo and Hiiragizawa are up next." 

Colin blinked and peered at the stage. Two guitarists and a beautiful blonde flutist were stomping through an energetic classical piece that he didn't recognize. "They're next?" he murmured in surprise. It was quite obvious that he wasn't paying much attention to the performers. 

"You've been eyeing the chandelier for the past half-hour," Justin noted from Ben's other side. 

"It's a very nice chandelier," Colin defended himself, looking a little abashed. Was he supposed to explain that he'd been thinking deep thoughts for most of the concert? 

"Whatever," Justin said dismissively. 

"Now be quiet," Bertie instructed. 

Colin obediently shut the hell up, as did Justin and Ben. 

The trio on stage finished their piece and took their bows to the polite applause of the audience. Colin supposed they were pretty good, but he wasn't musical enough to be terribly discerning. He was mostly just glad they were done. He didn't know how much longer he would be able to sit still. It was a good thing the last performance, Eriol and Tomoyo's, was ready to begin. 

"Oh, what a lovely dress!" Sin murmured to Bertie as Tomoyo and Eriol appeared on the stage. "And you did a great job on her hair, Colin." 

Colin had enough time to grin proudly at Sin before Eriol took his place at the piano, Tomoyo took her place before the microphone, and the audience fell utterly silent. 

The piano accompaniment wasn't terribly complex or difficult, but Eriol had an uncanny knack of projecting multiple layers of meaning into the music. Then the vocal line was picked up by Tomoyo and an almost-audible sigh rippled through the audience. Colin realized that he'd never actually heard Tomoyo sing before and was astonished by the transformation that took place. In school, she tended to be quiet, withdrawn. Despite her ethereal beauty, she preferred to remain in the background and was rather successful in that endeavor. Now, as she stood within the silvery glare of the spotlight in the red silk dress she'd spent a month making, she had a presence. Colin understood, perfectly, why nearly half the school was in love with her.   
  


There's a saying old   
Says that love is blind   
Still we're often told:   
"Seek and you shall find"   
So I'm going to seek a certain lad   
I've had in mind 

Looking everywhere   
Haven't found him yet   
He's the big affair   
I cannot forget   
Only man I ever think of with regret   
I'd like to add his initials   
To my monogram   
Tell me, where is the shepherd for this lost lamb? 

Now, to Colin's astonishment, Tomoyo angled her body just enough that she could make eye-contact with Eriol at the piano to her right. Her voice dipped and rose, richer than he would have imagined it would be. And her eyes, glittering darkly in the brilliant stage lights, were fixed smokily on Eriol's. Colin smiled to himself. He suspected Eriol was having trouble keeping his composure.   
  
  
There's a somebody I'm longing to see   
I hope that he   
Turns out to be   
Someone who'll watch over me 

I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood   
I know I could   
Always be good   
To one who'll watch over me 

Although he may not be the man some girls think of   
As handsome   
But to my heart   
He carries the key 

Won't you tell him please to put on some speed   
Follow my lead   
Oh how I need   
Someone to watch over me   
Someone to watch over me   
  


All too quickly, Tomoyo fell silent. Then she bowed. 

The audience erupted into a sea of applause. It was thunderous to Colin's ears, though perhaps he was more affected than most. To one side, Ben and Justin leapt to their feet and were soon followed by Sin and Bertie, both of whom were whooping and cheering like madmen. To Colin's left, Kaho Mizuki and her husband rose to their feet in unison, applauding, beaming with pride and admiration. 

So Colin joined his friends in applause, in support of his best friend and the boy who loved her. 

Eriol stood from the piano bench and stood next to Tomoyo in the center of the spotlit stage. They bowed together, then gestured for the rest of the performers to join them for the curtain call. This process took several minutes, during which Colin managed to worm his way out of his seat, down the aisle, and to the front of the stage. He grinned and held up two bouquets of rich crimson roses. 

"Catch!" he shouted over the din of the audience. 

Tomoyo seemed to hear him. She briefly met his gaze then caught the bouquet as he flung it toward her. Her small, red mouth curled into a small, red smile and she blew him a kiss. 

Eriol, on the other hand, was still obliviously beaming at the audience. He's enjoying his fame way too much, Colin decided firmly. So he threw the final bouquet as hard as he could at Eriol. 

The roses smacked into Eriol's face, petals fluttering in every direction. 

"Whoops," Colin mouthed to Tomoyo who was having difficulty retaining her demure smile in the face of Eriol's wide-eyed bafflement. Colin was close enough to the stage to recognize the laughter that shook her bare shoulders. 

"How the hell did you get up here so fast?" Justin demanded as he finished elbowing his way to where Colin was standing. The other boys weren't far behind, though Ben was slowed down by the rapturous looks he kept throwing in Tomoyo's direction. 

"Not everyone's as little and sneaky as you, Colin," Bertie noted once he and Sin made it to Colin. Bertie seemed to have the most difficulty moving through the crowd due to his size and unwillingness to use Justin's forceful crowd-maneuvering methods. 

"I see you threw them the roses," Sin commented blandly as he eyed the battered bouquet, lying in a puddle of rose petals at Eriol's feet. 

Colin just smirked. 

"I think I'm in love," Ben said dreamily when he finally made it to where Colin still standing by the stage. His whole face was flushed, from the tip of his snub nose to his freckled ears, and he was still gazing soulfully up at Tomoyo, resplendent in her red gown. 

"Me too," Colin murmured fondly. He'd never seen Tomoyo look so content, so whole. She looked strong enough to deal with her mother's death, strong enough to take on Eriol Hiiragizawa and win. 

"Our work is done here, boys," Colin said jovially to his friends. 

"Eh?" said Justin. Even he was looking a bit flushed from his spate of Tomoyo-watching. 

"Come on," Colin continued. He linked his arms with Justin and Ben's. "Let's get out of here."   
  
  
  


_______________________________   
  
  
  
  
  


Tomoyo and Eriol graciously accepted the praise of their fellow performers as they waited backstage for the furor to die down. Eriol perched precariously on a crate of lighting equipment while Tomoyo sat amidst the pooled skirts of her silk gown. Eriol was still watching her like a hawk. 

When did she learn to do that? He wondered. She manages to hold court even back here in the dim recesses of the school auditorium. He noted, with the inevitable flare of jealousy, that most of the students who stopped by to extol the virtues of her performance were young, male, and blushing furiously in her presence. Silly little boys. 

Then Tomoyo turned toward him and smiled and Eriol was so startled that he forgot his jealousy. 

"Would you wait here while I change out of the dress?" she asked. Tomoyo's circle of admirers had vanished and the stagehands were beginning to dismantle the stage setup. 

Eriol was inwardly pleased that she was assuming he'd be staying with her for a while. "Of course, Tomoyo-san," he said with a smile that he hoped wasn't too goofy. "And did I mention that you look ravishing in that gown?" 

"A couple of times, yes," Tomoyo replied with a tiny, satisfied smile. She collected her clothes from her bag. "I'll be right back." 

Eriol sat patiently for several minutes, his gaze fixed glassily on the door to the dressing room. He could plainly hear the rustling of silk and tulle and was having trouble keeping his imagination in check. Just as he was preparing to knock on the door and offer his assistance, Tomoyo reappeared dressed in a pale green sundress that Eriol was particularly fond of. He wondered if she knew how beautiful she looked in it, particularly with her hair still piled atop her head in an artfully tousled manner and her face still aglow with accomplishment. 

"Let's go," she said after hanging the scarlet silk dress back in it's gray vinyl hanging bag. Eriol hoped she would wear the dress again sometime soon. It only emphasized the way she'd grown since Tomoeda. 

"Where are we going?" Eriol asked once they had walked out of the auditorium and were approaching the gates of the school. The yard was almost abandoned; only a few stragglers from the concert, like themselves, were still ambling toward home. 

"You'll see," Tomoyo replied in an infuriatingly smug tone. 

"Oh," said Eriol. He remained resolutely silent for the rest of the walk. 

It wasn't until Tomoyo led him up a grassy hill toward what appeared to be a large pile of boulders that he realized where they were. "Oh," he said again. "The park." 

"I brought Colin here to tell him about you and Kaho," Tomoyo explained. "It's a good place to talk." 

"Is that what we're doing?" Eriol asked mildly. He was somewhat miffed that Colin had spent time with her in such a place. The ruined hillfort was like something out of Arthurian legend. All the scene needed was some swirling mist threading amongst the boulders and the birches. And perhaps a medieval gown for the fair Tomoyo. As it was, the nearly-full moon illuminated the clearing and the starlight hollowed out shadows in the hill that seemed to move as they walked. Had Eriol not been as intimately acquainted with the realities of sorcery, he might have been tempted to call the evening "magical." 

"Yes," Tomoyo said firmly as she lead the way toward the tallest pile of rubble. "We need to talk." 

How on earth does she make that sound appealing and ominous all at once? Eriol wondered, bemused. Tomoyo shucked her sandals off at the base of the boulders and began to clamber upward. Eriol pulled off his shoes and socks and did likewise. 

"It's easier to climb barefoot than in heels," Tomoyo noted as she finished her scramble to the top. "Better than school flats too," she added as she settled into the slight hollow of the boulder's top face. 

"I'm just impressed that you can climb in a dress," Eriol added. 

"Me too, actually." Tomoyo arranged her skirts around her as Eriol sat down next to her. 

"So we were going to talk?" Eriol prompted mildly. 

"Yes," Tomoyo said then fell silent again. 

Some sort of nocturnal bird called from the shelter of a nearby ash. 

"What did you want to talk about?" Eriol was overcome by his curiosity. Did she want to discuss their relationship? He certainly did. Or at least, he wanted her to discuss their relationship enough so that he could feel comfortable kissing her. 

"You still love Mizuki-sensei." It was a statement, not a question. Tomoyo's face was veiled in the shadows of her hair; Eriol had no idea what she was thinking. 

"Yes," Eriol replied truthfully. "I still love her. I think I always will. And you still love Sakura-san. What's your point?" 

"The point is," Tomoyo began, choosing her words slowly and carefully, "That you . . . and I . . . well, what do you expect from me, Eriol? We, neither of us, are truly free to love others." Tomoyo shivered and turned her face to stare at the stars. She wasn't quite ready to look at Eriol yet. 

Eriol ran impatient fingers through his dark fringe of hair. "I don't know what I expect from you. I don't think I have any expectations of you. You know how I feel about you, Tomoyo." For a brief, horrible moment, Eriol realized how ridiculous he sounded. 

"All triteness aside," Tomoyo continued, brushing aside Eriol's decidedly corny comments. "We both love other people. Our hearts have already been claimed." She paused and tucked her legs in to her chest, wrapping her pale arms around her knees. 

The silence was almost painful. Then Eriol sighed and pulled his coat off, settling it around Tomoyo's bare shoulders. "Does it really matter that I love Kaho and you love Sakura?" 

Tomoyo finally looked at him, her mascara-daubed eyes enormous in the twilight. "I've always thought that preexisting loves might be a bit of an impediment to any sort of relationship," she said with mild sarcasm. 

"I don't know about you, Tomoyo," Eriol said, "But I have a big heart. There's room for more than one person in there. True, Kaho certainly has a piece of my heart, but I'm sure there's quite a bit of it left for you. If you'll have it, that is," he added hesitantly. "If you'll have me . . ." 

Tomoyo stared at him, her expression unreadable. 

"Do you really think that we're only allowed to love one person, Tomoyo?" Eriol's voice was slightly strained. Why wasn't she answering? Was he just making a complete ass of himself? "Do you?" 

"Hmm," was all Tomoyo said as her gaze shied away from Eriol. 

That's it, Eriol thought gloomily. I've lost her for good, now. He felt like pounding his head against the boulder they were seated on. I am an idiot. An unmitigated ass. And any moment now she'll tell me so . . . 

"Maybe you're right," Tomoyo conceded, still looking off toward the shadows of the trees. 

Eriol paused in the process of tearing his hear out. "What?" 

"I think I can keep on loving Sakura and still have room for someone else," she mused. The moon outlined her profile, limning her delicate features with silvery light. Eriol watched her purse her lips thoughtfully. 

"Someone else?" he prompted hopefully. 

"Yes," Tomoyo confirmed. Eriol couldn't tell if she was smiling or not. 

"Like me?" he asked, a little louder. 

"Perhaps," Tomoyo replied coyly. Eriol caught a flash of white teeth as she grinned briefly at him. "You are truly a wise man, Eriol Hiiragizawa," she noted, half-serious. "You know that?" 

"Of course I am," Eriol said. "I'm terribly wise." 

"And clever," Tomoyo added, shifting a little closer to him. 

"You forgot to mention charming," Eriol said with a winning smile. 

"And sexy," Tomoyo murmured. 

Eriol was startled into a blush. I don't think I've ever heard her say that word, he pondered. It sounds almost naughty, coming from her. He hoped that it was dark enough to hide his flushed cheeks. If she noticed how red he was, he'd never live it down. 

Tomoyo began to laugh. "You're blushing!" she said between bouts of bubbling laughter. 

"I am not!" Masculine pride wounded, Eriol set about retaliating by pulling the pins out of Tomoyo's hair, sending it tumbling about her shoulders. 

"What was that for?" Tomoyo asked curiously. She slid herself close enough that he could feel the head radiating from her body. 

"I like your hair," Eriol said with a pout. "But I like it better down." 

"We're going to have to go find all those pins, you know," Tomoyo reminded him as she watched him toss the handful of hairpins off into the darkness. 

"Later," Eriol assured her as he slipped an arm cautiously around her shoulder, pulling her head down to rest on his shoulder. He marveled at how well she fit against his side, soft and slim and beautiful against the silver light of the evening. He tended to forget how small she was, but now, with his hand delicately cupping her shoulder, he couldn't help but remember. 

They sat in companionable silence for several minutes. Eriol inhaled the scent of her hair and closed his eyes. This is what I've been waiting for all my life, he decided, his mind fuzzy with bliss. 

Then Tomoyo suddenly pulled back and gazed up at him. There was a question in her dark eyes but for the life of him, Eriol couldn't figure out what she was asking. 

"What?" He hoped she hadn't changed her mind or something equally horrifying. 

"Aren't you going to kiss me?" she asked him seriously, her brow furrowed slightly. 

Eriol gaped stupidly for a moment. 

"Well?" Tomoyo looked impatient now. 

"I was just waiting for the kettle to interrupt," Eriol said once he recovered his equilibrium. "Or maybe Nakuru. Something. Something always interrupts us . . ." He was only half-joking. 

"Idiot," Tomoyo said fondly before pulling his head down and kissing him soundly. 

When Tomoyo finally let him come up for air, he had a goofy grin on his face and he was having trouble focusing his gaze on her. Her face was a silver-shaded blur framed by the wild shadows of her hair. "I may be an idiot," he began, somewhat breathlessly, "But I'm your idiot." 

Tomoyo laughed again and it sent shafts of warmth through Eriol's soul. She sounded truly happy. He wasn't sure he'd ever heard her laugh like that. Not even for Sakura. 

"Damn straight, you're my idiot," she replied before dragging him close again and shutting out the moon, the stars, and the rest of the night for the both of them.   
  
  
  


_______________________________   
  
  
  
  
  


Author's Notes:   
  


Phew! I'm finally finished. For a while I considered planning an epilogue for this story, but I don't think it'll happen. If anyone out there really wants an epilogue and can come up with a darn good reason for one, then email me and I'll consider it. I think I cleared up pretty much all of the loose ends in this final chapter, but please don't hesitate to bug me if you feel otherwise.   
  


More comments. Yes, this took me a long time to write, but now that it's over, I'm realizing that it was, indeed, a fairly major accomplishment. The series is over a hundred standard pages long and nearly 60,000 words deep. It's certainly not my greatest piece of literary work, but I'm proud to have completed the damn thing. Now maybe I can get on with Nadesico's Daughter. *grumbles* Yes, CCSchleuter, I'm going to finish Nadesico's Daughter. I promised, didn't I? *cackles*   
  


Anyway, now comes the part of the fic where I thank everyone who helped me with this: 

- To Sakura, Tin, and Meg for the inspiration. If it wasn't for you three, I would never have attempted or even contemplated the Eriol x Tomoyo pairing. *sniffles* I love you guys! 

- To Jae for her energetic poking over the past few months. I still need to write that dueling omake for her. Yeah, the one where Tomoyo and Colin fight over Eriol, who gets to wear a dress. Cuteness! 

- To Jay for caring more about my art than my ficcage. I think I'm flattered but I'm not so sure. 

- To the assortment of people who accosted me on AIM to chat me up about my writing. Their not-so-subtle attempts at prodding me into action assured the completion of this fanfiction. 

- To those people who emailed me with comments and suggestions for A Cappella. I got some really helpful editing comments from these. My writing would be a lot less coherent without these people. 

- To the general population of the CCSFWML for their wholesome influence and generous tolerance of my laziness. 

- To all the folks who reviewed A Cappella on fanfiction.net. You guys are way too nice to me. 

- And finally, to my sister for refusing to read my fic after the first chapter. I'll still kick her ass one of these days. Eddings my cute little butt! *gnashes teeth*   
  


Next Up: I'm going to finish Nadesico's Daughter! Honest! *waves crazily*   
  
  
  


- Kit Spooner   
November 28, 2001   
acalliope@aol.com   
http:// www.envy.nu/fruitbat/   
http://fruitbat.pitas.com   
  



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